


Secondhand Smoke

by plasticlizard022



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bad Technobabble, Bucky Barnes Has Nightmares, But he comes back because of the endgame snap!, Canonical Character Death, Electrocution, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Nightmares, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Super False Medical Practices because I'm Not a Doctor, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:20:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23763730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plasticlizard022/pseuds/plasticlizard022
Summary: The cigarette is between his lips, but the smoke fills your lungs too. The consequences of his actions doesn't affect only Bucky Barnes. If you manage to survive, will you ever be able to forgive him?-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-You are a telepath and part of the Avengers.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	1. Last person I'd go to jail for. . . Yet, here we are

You slid from your cot and moved to the edge of your cell as Tony Stark approached you. "Barnes is the last person I'd ever expect you to fall on your sword for," he mentioned casually, hands in his pockets. Tony was honestly one of the last people you wanted to see right now seeing as how he had put you in this box in the first place. 

"It's smart," you ignored his statement. "It was you that recommended the radiowaves to keep me from reading anyone's mind in here, right? Killer migraine so thanks for that." 

"You made your choice, (Y/N). There have to be consequences to your actions," he retorted. 

You laughed and laid back down on your cot. "A little ironic coming from you," you snorted before covering your head with your pillow in a failed attempt to try and drown out the fuzziness filling your head like gluey static. If only you could read his mind right now so that you could know for sure if he heard you or not. You peeked your head out from your pillow and saw him whispering to Sam. 

Tony had made a point, though. Bucky Barnes was the last person on earth you ever expected to go to prison for. In actuality, you hadn't come to prison for him - you had come for Steve. Of course you had chosen not sign the accords; you had always struggled staying out of trouble and that was before you became an Avenger. Sam hadn't been excited to save Bucky either but the three of you were in this mess together so your little team was able to make it to Bucharest to ensure that the strike force sent to retrieve him or his highness T'Challa didn't kill him. That meant you were wanted and that made your mission a lot more difficult. As much as you didn't want to go to jail for Bucky, you had to make sure that he and Steve could get to Siberia to stop those winter soldiers. Steve had your full confidence so you supposed it was worth it. 

Bucky Barnes. . . the two of you had history and none of it was pleasant. When you looked into those shockingly stunning blue eyes, you didn't see the man from the 40s that Steve once knew; you could only see the Hydra/Soviet solider who had been sent to kidnap you while you were still in college and then tried to kill you almost a decade later. 

*_*_*_*_*_*_* 2005 *_*_*_*_*_*_*

Your mother had been an engineer and your father had been a doctor so you had big shoes to fill. You decided to follow both of their footsteps by getting into medical engineering. Whatever radiation that had infected your mother while she was pregnant with you (hence giving you your power) was also what killed her right before your graduation. Your father suffered from a rare autoimmune disorder that killed him six months later. It would likely kill you one day too, if the radiation that gave you the gift of reading minds, unless you achieved your goal of creating a procedure that would heal you. 

You were intelligent, there was no doubt about that. You graduated high school at the top of your class and with a pocket full of completed AP courses. You were powering through the fourth semester of grad school. The courses were a breeze so you decided to get a head start on the more difficult work that would meet you in the following fall semester; a heavy science textbook laid on your lap and some upbeat Kelly Clarkson song tingled quietly through the radio. 

One of the fortunate things about having a successful doctor and engineer as parents meant that you had a nice mansion to live in instead of one of the cramped dorms. It had the best security system that was available at the time which soothed any nerves you had of staying in that large building alone. 

The voice of some annoyingly upbeat radio DJ followed you down the hall as you moved to your parents' bathroom. The master bedroom was technically yours but it felt wrong to move in even if your parents had been gone for awhile now. Even still, they had the nice soaker tub so it's where you often bathed. 

You froze in your tracks as that familiar tingle scratched the inside of your mind. You couldn't interpret what you were hearing but it was undeniable - someone was close enough for you to hear their thoughts. "... верхний коридор." It was Russian. None of the staff were Russian so who was here? Best case scenario: a deliveryman was dropping something off at your door. Worst case scenario: Someone was in the house. 

Why hadn't the alarms gone off? It was a very nice house so maybe this was just a burglar coming in to snag a few high-priced items before sneaking back out. You slipped into the nearest room - your father's old study, complete with towering bookcases with books placed more for decoration than for reading and a giant mahogany desk with his computer collecting dust. The biggest mistake you made was shutting the door instead of keeping it cracked. "Не очень умный," you hear like a whisper and you curse yourself for not learning even conversational Russian. No one even speaks Latin anymore so why was that the second language of your choice?!

The click of the doorknob was all the intruder needed to pinpoint your location. Unfortunately, even if you could hear his thoughts, they didn't get louder the closer he got to you. The only indication that he was making his way to you was the soft tap of his soles on the hardwood floor, broken only when he'd cross one of the old rugs you always thought were too ugly to keep but kept anyway. You covered your mouth when the doorknob turned. 

Okay. You had taken a self-defense class but that was a few years ago. Wrack your brain and remember something! You looked around the room and grabbed the heaviest thing you could manage as a weapon. It was a heavy ceramic lamp. The doorknob jiggled and then stopped. Maybe he would move on since the door was locked. . . In the next moment, the sound of the heavy door hitting the floor was preceded only by the sound of his boot against the wood to kick it down. "Вот ты где," you heard him think but not say. 

The light from the hallway obscured his face. From what you could tell, he was tall and had shoulder-length hair. "Please," you whispered and backed yourself against the wall to give yourself the most distance you could manage. "Take whatever you want. I don't care. I'll even give you the code for the safe." Could he even understand you?

"Please," you whimpered again as he moved towards you with strong strides. You swung the lamp at him, the cord still plugged in knocked items off of the desk which startled you much more than it startled him. He grabbed the lamp and used his gloved left hand to shatter the base just from his grip. 

Backed into a corner, you were forced to do the one thing you really hated doing - something you swore to your parents that you would never do. You pushed your thoughts into his own mind. "Leave me alone!" He froze for a moment at the intrusiveness of having someone in his head. Blood trickled from your nose; you almost never pushed yourself into someone else's mind so to say you were out of practice would be an understatement. 

No one liked having someone else in their head but the intruder seemed to take it personally. His left hand reached out and grabbed your throat. Not that you had ever been choked before so that you could compare, but his grip still felt tighter than it should've been. Your fingers dug into the fabric of his sleeves. His arm felt. . . weird. It lacked that fleshy feeling and you couldn't even locate defined muscles which someone with his strength would surely have. 

He slammed your head against the wall. The sound of the cracking drywall drowning out the sparse Russian thoughts that tangled around your mind. He was close enough now that you could see him, not that there was much more to see. He wore a mask over his nose and mouth. But you were able to see his eyes, a deep and empty blue. There was no man, only a monster, behind that mask.

A breath pushed against his grip but was caught in the top of your throat. Your lungs beat heavily in your chest and your heart hammered intensely, begging for a fresh supply of oxygen. Was it the tears in your eyes or the inability to breathe that made your vision fade out and grow black around the edges. You only felt your head slam against the wall again for a moment before your eyes rolled back and consciousness escaped you. 

When you woke again, you were strapped into a cold, uncomfortable, metal chair - like a dentist's office gone wrong. There was a bright light on your face which intensified the throbbing in the back of your head. You weren't officially a doctor but you were certain that you had a concussion; thank goodness you had woken from unconsciousness. 

Metal cuffs kept your head, arms, and legs pressed to the chair but you had the space to arch your back. "Where am I? What's going on?!" You squinted and made out the figures of half a dozen men standing around you behind the light. You searched their mind for clues which was difficult to do with such a pounding headache. It didn't matter because none of their thoughts were in English, even if you managed to catch an English word slip past their lips. That was the issue with bilinguists - if they could speak English but thought in their mother-tongue then you couldn't understand their thoughts. 

"Little bunny," a thick accent purred in your ear which made your skin crawl, "you could save yourself a lot of trouble by just explaining how you received your. . . particular gift." The light shining on you flickered off and you could make out the faces of the men surrounding you. They were military and Russian. That's all you conclude under the circumstances and with your limited knowledge on the Russian military. 

Your abductor stood guard nearby. He wasn't any less intimidating with his mask off. That's not all that was removed; he was no longer wearing his gloves. The words of the men beside you passed through one ear and out the other. Your focus was on the metal hand your abductor had wrapped around a rather large gun. If circumstances were different you would be completely entranced by the amazing technology. What an interesting and well-functioning prosthetic! 

Suddenly a large shock of electricity passed through your body and a piercing scream erupted from your throat. You panted heavily once the shock had passed. Your heart raced uncomfortably fast and the thoughts of the men around you were fuzzy and distorted now. Getting distracted by your captor had more consequences than you imagined. "Where did your government test you!" one of the men yelled. 

Your thoughts felt all scrambled what with the screaming, the concussion, and the electrocution. "I don't. . . no where. . ." you answered weakly. How did they know about your ability in the first place?! You had spent the majority of your life learning how to cope with your ability and how to keep it hidden. "They don't know!" Another screamed scratched your throat as another wave of electricity passed through your system. 

Of course they wouldn't believe you! Even if you had been lying, how long would you last? "I was born this way," you sobbed. "There was no testing!" The next wave of electrocution was the most painful and caused you to pass out. 

The next thing you can remember is waking up in a comfortable cot in a warm room with no windows. There was a nurse hooking you up to an IV drip and a man with an eye patch seated in the corner of the room. Sirens went off in the back of your mind - danger! danger! The only thing that put you at ease was their thoughts - they were in English and they weren't hostile. 

Apparently you had been held captive for four months but you could only recall the first day. It took years of therapy to unlock more of your memories of what had happened to you. It caused you to have a complete mental breakdown so your therapist suggested that maybe you shouldn't try remembering any more of what happened until you were in a stronger state of mind. Nick Fury wasn't too pleased with that because he was sure that there was useful information hidden away somewhere behind the locks of your mind. 

But eventually you were able to return to school and finish at the top of your class. You received your PhD and MD and didn't return to SHIELD until the Battle of New York where you became an Avenger. You didn't even think about your abductor - the Winter Soldier (one of the few memories retrieved during your brief stint with therapy) - until he appeared again in 2014.


	2. Why should I help him, of all people?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve breaks you out of prison and takes you to Wakanda to help set Bucky's mind straight. He's the last person on earth you want to help but you do have a soft spot for Steve. Even still, can you forgive how he hurt you a few years ago in order to help him now?

Steve rescued you, Wanda, and Sam from the prison. Clint and Scott had already taken deals to remain under house arrest so that they could be with their families. You couldn't blame them for that but since you didn't have any children, you weren't about to take any deal. Besides, you knew full well that Steve would come for you. And he did. 

He took everyone to Wakanda, explaining everything on the trip there. He and Bucky had fought Tony because Bucky had killed Tony's parents back in the nineties. Your stomach knotted up just thinking about it. The team really was broken it? It felt like there was no chance for repair but Steve retained his optimism that one day everyone would be reunited again. 

Your mind was filled with a rush of thoughts as you landed in Wakanda and were once again surrounded by a large amount of people. After some time of not being able to read anyone's mind, suddenly hearing everyone's was a little overwhelming and would take a bit of getting used to. At least you had the new scenery to distract you. 

Wakanda was breathtaking. A whole new world lay hidden within the valleys and mountains of the supposedly third-world country. Thank God T'Challa no longer held a grudge for your little team because then you would have never gotten to see this brand new world. So technologically advanced and vibrant. The most exciting part was definitely the technology. You could spend years here learning their advanced techniques and procedures. You were a kid in a candy store!

Steve practically let you loose in the medbay. You were introduced to T'Challa's younger sister, Shuri. She had designed a lot of the equipment you had been playing around with. The two of you bonded instantly and you knew you'd do well here. But just as every cloud had a silver lining, every silver lining had a cloud. 

You were pulled aside by Steve after he had spoken with the soon-to-be king of Wakanda. "I have a big favor to ask of you and you can say no. . ." he began. An anxious sickness filled your gut. 

"You going to ask me, or what?" you asked and held your arms. Your fingernails pressed into your skin leaving crescents, though you were careful not to draw blood. The worst part of it all is that you already knew your answer. You couldn't possibly deny any request Steve asked of you. He was a hard guy to say "no" to. 

Steve began walking to the far end of the large medical wing. "Cryosurgery is sort of your thing. And you can get inside people's minds. . ." he explained to you things you already knew, "Bucky wants to go back under. He needs someone to take the Hydra coding out of his head so that no one can flip that switch again. I know it's a lot to ask but you know there's no one I trust more than you." 

You stopped and stared at Bucky who was sitting only fifteen feet away from you now. His metal arm was missing and he wore a black sling in its place. He glanced your way and, for just a moment, you locked eyes. They were the same steely blue that you remembered from years ago but the emptiness was gone. You knew now why they had been so hollow before but it still didn't make looking deep into his eyes any easier. You flicked your gaze down to your shoes and then over to Steve. 

"If you can't handle this," Steve began quietly, "no one would blame you. (Y/N), I only ask because this is right up your alley." This was almost the perfect case for you. Experimental practices with cryotherapy AND tooling around in someone's head? This circumstance was practically created for you. Fate was a bitch, though, for making your patient the one person on earth you hated. 

You shook your head. "I can do it," you agreed softly. Your fingers curled through your hair and pulled the strands into a tight ponytail. "But don't think for one second this is for him." You had to make yourself clear. If Steve hadn't asked then you would never have volunteered to help the ex-Winter Soldier. You went to gather the information about his vitals while Steve said his goodbyes. 

One little perk that came with your ability to read minds was being able to eavesdrop on conversations. Not everyone thought before they spoke, but most everyone did think AS they spoke. You heard Steve assure Bucky that you were the best doctor and that he was in very capable hands. Bucky asked Steve if you were okay and if he should try apologizing again. Steve adamantly told him that that was not the best idea and that his best option was to bring up as little as possible for the time being.

Bucky's head was filled with shame and guilt. Good. He had hurt you more times than you were even aware. There were the times you knew of and then there were the lost memories of all he might've done to you while you were being held captive by Hydra. He had tried to apologize for everything during the car ride to meet Sharon Carter and get the gear. You had burst into a nervous fit of tears and Sam had chewed Bucky out endlessly for upsetting you. It was mostly embarrassing because you had promised the team, Steve specifically, that his presence wasn't going to be an issue for you. After that one instance of weakness, it hadn't been. 

You moved over to the old friends and took Bucky's arm. Your kept your fingers pressed to his wrist to verify his pulse was stable enough that going back on the ice wouldn't mean that he would never wake up again. It was difficult to count since you couldn't stop your sweaty hands from trembling. He noticed that you were afraid of him and you were embarrassed again. How unprofessional. 

The cryo-pod set up wasn't dissimilar from a prototype you had in your own lab. You were able to work the features quite easily. "If you're ready, you can step inside," you told him quietly. 

His moved into the standing pod and you strapped him in to keep his position stable. You removed the IV from his hand and stepped back, using a tablet to make some final notes before sealing him in. "(Y/N)," he said gently and you glanced up, "Thank-you." Now would've been the time to make a snide comment about how lucky he was that you'd do anything for Steve but you only nodded. 

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as the glass cover locked in place over him. The glass fogged as the hissing cold air filled his pod. You checked your tablet and noted his vitals. Everything had gone well and you promised Steve that he would be well taken care of. 

"You're sure you're going to be okay?" Steve asked you after bringing you tightly into his embrace. A goodbye. 

You rubbed his arm and nodded. "I'm fine, Steve. Seriously," you assured him. . . and you assured yourself. The man who haunted your dreams was frozen behind a thick layer of glass without his metal arm. Maybe spending some time with Bucky while he was in such a vulnerable state would be good for you. You could get a little bit of closure and you could teach yourself not to tremble in his presence. 

You placed a kiss on his cheek and watched Steve leave with Sam. You could reach him if you really needed to. For now, your place would be here fixing Bucky's mind. It wasn't going to be easy so you got to work. 

It was tireless and nonstop work but you and Shuri had made miraculous progress on removing the soviet coding in his brain. "We have to be sure the words won't work on him," you said and pinched your nose. It was day seven and you were running on almost no sleep. There were heavy bags under your eyes but the exhaustion seemed to be good for you. You were simply too tired to deal with petty little things like being afraid of this man. 

"I guess this is the one thing I cannot do," Shuri noted. "Unless we wake him up." 

"No!" you interjected. "No. We don't wake him until we know for sure. I can make sure that it worked." You pulled a chair in front of his pod and took a deep breath. In through the nose and out through the mouth. Ten times. It kept you calm. You weren't sure what was going to happen once you entered his mind and you were terrified of what you might find. 

"Are you sure you're up for it?" Shuri asked you, clearly concerned for your mental health. You wrung your hands and bounced your legs anxiously. Your eyes were locked on the tile flooring. She had to repeat herself for the words to really process in your mind. 

Your nod didn't quite have her convinced. Neither did your sigh. "A mind is really messy," you began to explain, "and it's really easy to find something you're not looking for. I don't know what'll happen if something triggers me into an episode while I'm inside his head." You weren't sure if you would just pull out completely while you had a breakdown or if it would affect him negatively. Pulling him out of stasis to do a trial while he was awake could potentially be far more dangerous. 

"You'll just have to be careful then," Shuri said candidly. You really appreciated her frank attitude. 

"Wow. Easy as that," you teased, an uncomfortable laugh tickling the back of your throat. "Just make sure you keep an eye on his brainwaves. I'd love to only do this once." If you had really successfully fixed his mind, then you'd only need to do this test once. Shuri would make sure there were no changes or spikes in his brain activity while you entered his mind. 

You had gotten much better at slipping into someone's mind. When it came to things like espionage, you were especially helpful at planting ideas in someone's mind. Not that you were able to make choices for someone or control them, but you were basically an earworm, singing suggestive ideas constantly until they caved to the itch in their conscience. 

When it came to Bucky, you didn't need to plant any ideas. All you had to do was say the words. You had spent the last decade obsessively learning Russian so that if you were ever captured again then you would be able to understand the thoughts of your captors. "Longing. Rusted. Seventeen. Daybreak. Furnace. Nine. Benign. Homecoming. One. Freight Car." Your voice filled every gap and void in his mind. 

You were pushed out of his mind. It was extremely rare for someone to have the willpower to shut you out of their mind, even if it was temporary. Your fingers came back from your nose bloody. Being forcefully removed from his mind had taken a toll on you. "Did it work?" you asked Shuri, your voice tinny and distant. It was like your own mind was trouble finding your body after being evicted from Bucky's. 

"No notable spikes in adrenaline or drops in serotonin," Shuri exclaimed happily. "Hardly any activity at all." That was odd considering he pushed you out of his mind. He must not have liked you trying to trigger him into his combat mode. You grabbed a tissue and wiped your nose. 

"I guess. . . it's time to wake him," you said slowly. Of course you were proud of the work you had done. The two of you had undone decades of brainwashing in the matter of a week. You hadn't even stumbled into a memory or thought you shouldn't have while you were in his mind suggesting that maybe you were getting a little bit better with handling his presence. 

The muted, steady hiss of cold air being continually pumped into Bucky's pod slowly quieted into nothing. You had to be ready to administer an IV drip because he was likely to be very dehydrated coming out of the freeze. You'd have to pump in a load of nutrients that you already had prepared as well. It would make his transition back into the warm and the living more comfortable and easy. 

"I'm fine!" you snapped after Shuri asked if you'd be okay once the glass lid was lifted. "I'm tired of everyone asking me if I'll be alright. I'm fine." They were doing it because they cared and because they worried. But you were a grown woman and it was demeaning when you were constantly being checked up on. So what you had a little bit of PTSD. Didn't everyone in your line of work have a little bit at this point? You had a job to do and you could swallow that rising sense of panic to do your job. 

That was mostly true. Shuri had to insert the IV because your hands were too shaky to find a vein with jabbing him endlessly. It did take the two of you to move his large frame over to a seat. Your hands still trembled when you touched him but you managed to find and keep his pulse - making note that it was steady and strong. 

His thoughts entered your own mind. He was confused and afraid. Every other time he had come out of the ice he had been pulled to do something very bad like kill innocent people or train very bad people or kidnap you. "You're in Wakanda," you reminded him to try and put his mind at ease. Why were you doing him any favors?! You still hated him, right? "You're safe and your mind should be free of any soviet coding."

There weren't just thoughts of confusion and fear. You could hear him replay every traumatic moment that followed his wake from previous cyro-slumbers. You were forced to accept something that you had known all along. He was as much a victim of Hydra as you were. And for the first time, you were less afraid. In fact, you were actually empathetic. And you were certainly glad to be here fixing his mind. Maybe he'd know how to fix your own mind, too.


	3. It's pretty unfair that you're the only one who might be able to save me. . .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're haunted by nightmares of Bucky kidnapping you again even though you know he's no longer the Winter Soldier. You figure that confronting him might be the best way to try and move forward. . . if only you knew how fragile your mental state really became when you were in his presence.

Since you couldn't return to your lab at the Avenger's compound (on the account of being a fugitive), the labs in Wakanda were a good replacement. That was understatement. Sure you didn't have your notes and your half-finished projects, but you had access to so much more technology which was invaluable. The very few hours you didn't spend working, you spent in your little apartment in Birnin Zana - Wakanda's capital city. 

Bucky had been moved to a tiny little home down by the river right outside of the city. Some calm, gentle space would be good for letting his mind fully reboot. It also didn't hurt that he was away from the general public in case he snapped. While you felt pretty confident that the soviet coding had been properly and fully removed from his mind, that didn't eliminate the possibility of him losing his mind anyway. You understood the effects of PTSD pretty well. You had repressed memories and frequent panic attacks. Tony also had anxiety attacks and often made dramatic decisions to compensate for that constant itch of fear. Who knew how he would react? 

You had a plethora of degrees (for heaven's sake, you were a doctor!) but that did not mean you were a qualified psychologist. Your credentials really came from your ability to literally get into someone's head. So, with much reluctance and trepidation, you'd travel down to Bucky's little home everyday alongside Shuri. After a couple weeks of successful testing, it was safe to assume the procedure had effectively worked. With that said, your interactions with the Winter Soldier could have pretty much ceased there. 

But fate was a bitch. 

Nightmares plagued your every resting moment. Not that you didn't get nightmares before this, but never like this. You'd wake screaming, wondering if what you had just experienced was only a dream or a resurfacing memory. You never were really sure. Most of the time, you were too nervous to sleep. The rational side of your brain knew full well that Bucky Barnes posed absolutely no threat to you. Yet knowing he was within reach kept you restlessly awake. 

After a sleepless week you were faced with a few options. You could either continue to let this harmless man torment you or you could confront him. Obviously you didn't want him having any more control over you anymore but you just weren't sure you had the courage to face him. You could go with Shuri but somehow it felt like that would defeat the purpose. If you could convince yourself to spend one day with him, then maybe your mind could accept that you were no longer in danger. 

A few giggling children ran into his hut and dragged him out to meet you upon your arrival. He wore more traditional clothing which actually looked quite comfortable. It helped keep him a little more grounded and connected. On the other hand, you wore modern garb though it wasn't any less colorful. "I thought we were done with testing," he greeted you. You could hear his confused thoughts though he didn't seem unhappy to see you. That being said, there was a veil of hostility and defensiveness you were able to make out. 

As the two of you moved down to the waterside to talk, you heard it. The root of the hostility. He wondered if you had come just to root around in his head. After having Hydra scramble his brain, he was uncomfortable with you inserting yourself into his mind. He then wondered if you were in his head right now. You glanced over at him and met his eyes. That answered his question. 

"I can't help it," you explained defensively. Everyone always judged you for reading minds. It was a huge invasion of privacy. And if you had the option to just flip a switch and stop listening then you would. It just didn't work that way. "Trust me, this is not a choice I'm making." You held your arms tightly to your chest. His discomfort and hostility was beginning to freak you out. You held a deep breath until you were calm enough to exhale without letting the air out shakily. 

Bucky relaxed a little bit too. It was unfair of him to judge you for something you had no control over. Though your circumstances were different, they were also not unalike. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "Bad things just seem to happen when someone pokes around in my mind." He was just as nervous as you were about him resorting back to his old ways; he actually seemed more nervous. 

"I poked around and got rid of your coding," you offered. So it wasn't all bad. . . at least not when you were doing it. You pursed your lips as the two of you stopped at the water's edge. 

"What're you doing here?" Bucky asked. The two of you watched the dusky sunlight bounce off the ripples in the water. Birds and bugs filled the air with their chirps. He knelt down and picked up a few stones that he skipped across the water. 

Your hands jammed into your pockets, pinching the fabric between your fingertips. "It's going to sound silly," you whispered. His thoughts entered your mind. He knew you were afraid of him so he didn't care what your answer was; he wouldn't be offended. "I haven't slept in days. I keep having these nightmares that you're still just the Winter Soldier and you come to take me again. I know the procedure worked. . . I guess I just needed to come down here to remind myself of that." 

Bucky skipped another stone across the water. Losing an arm was a shame, but he didn't miss the metal arm with that cursed soviet star. He was just glad that his right arm was his dominant arm and was the one he still had. He was struggling between risking triggering you by apologizing again or remaining silent. "You don't have to apologize," you told him. "I know. . . I know it wasn't you. I'm just having a hard time convincing myself of that. . . if that makes sense." 

"It makes total sense." He also knew that he hadn't been in control of what he had done but it didn't change the fact that he had been the one to do what he did. "I'm sorry, anyway, (Y/N)." 

Your fingers knotted into a tight fist in your pockets and your heart felt small and tight. Yet, you didn't burst into tears or collapse in a nervous fit. That was progress right? It seemed so odd that you had spent the past week so afraid of him when his presence in person was so disarming. You had spent time with him previously but that was on official medical business. To actually get a feel for him now. . . well, he was a real person. He wasn't just some monster. 

"I'm sorry, too," you said and felt his eyes on you though you kept your gaze locked on the water lapping the ground near your feet. "I know I haven't been kind to you either." He had been tortured just as much as you had. That was selfish thinking. He had been tortured more. To no fault of his own, he had a lot of blood on his hands that he'd always have to live with. At least you didn't have that. 

"You fixed my mind. I'd say that you're much kinder than you give yourself credit for. That's something I can never repay." 

You only shrugged. "Steve asked me to help you. I don't know if I would've done it otherwise. . . except maybe out of scientific curiosity." You were really letting him know how you felt this whole time. You had always been pretty translucent with people and how you felt about them, though; if you could tell how people felt about you it was only fair that you reciprocated and shared your own feelings. It eased your conscience. Right now, it was also very cathartic. . . facing your demons. 

"Regardless, you still fixed me. Thank you," Bucky said gently. The two of you stood quietly by the water. He tossed a few more stones before turning to you. 'If shitting on me is making you feel better, you don't have to stop,' his thoughts whispered to you. All you had done since you had gotten here was frankly tell him that he was scary and that you didn't want to do anything for him. But you were also the most relaxed he had ever seen you (not to say you were relaxed, just more than usual). 

'I should really try being more positive,' your own words echoed in his mind. He stumbled back a moment and he finally caught your attention. You were a little red in the face. Maybe speaking in his mind was a bad choice all things considered. You knew he didn't like people in his head. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," you apologized, "You were just in my head so. . ." Your fingernails dug into your palms. You turned and began to walk away. 

"(Y/N), it's fine," Bucky assured you. Hearing you in his head had startled him more than it had upset him. He didn't love having you in his head but he had purposefully communicated with you via thoughts so he didn't hold it against you to reply back in a similar manner. "I just didn't know you could do that." He gently grabbed your arm to keep you from leaving. 

Your muscles tightened in rigid tension at his touch. His hands felt so familiar on your skin and in the most unbearable way. All of a sudden you were back home being dragged away to a soviet base. You wouldn't be taken captive this time. A decade of training had prepared you for this. You pulled a knife from your pocket. In one fluid motion, you flipped it open and swung it at Bucky's arm with the full intent of amputating his hand from his wrist. 

Although he was no longer under the control of his old programming, Bucky still retained all of his combat training and skills. He was able to pull his hand away before you could cut through his flesh; he wanted to keep his one remaining arm. His body arched back to avoid your next swing. You were fighting for your life even though Bucky was only reacting defensively to your motions. His stomach ached looking into your fear-stricken face, the terror glossing your eyes. Unless he wanted to be chased until you snapped out of your trance, he needed to disarm you which, luckily for him, wasn't too difficult. It would've been easier with two arms but he made do. He managed to get your arm locked under his armpit and he twisted your wrist into such an uncomfortable position that you were forced to drop the knife. 

You collapsed to your knees beside him, your wails carrying across the water sending a flock of birds into the air. He wanted to help you to your feet so he could at least guide you to a stool or a bed but he was afraid of touching you again. "(Y/N), it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you," he assured you and took a step back. The children who liked to tease and play with Bucky peeked out from where they were playing. 

Your vision was blurry from your tears. "You're going to take me," you kept repeating over and over and sometimes in broken-Russian. He didn't know that you spoke Russian either. He had learned about you in the past few minutes. 

"I won't. I'm not going to," he assured you and knelt down. He held his hand up as a gesture of goodwill. He was close enough that you felt like you could strike again. Only a fool would carry just one knife. You pulled out your second knife and swung it weakly in his direction. He grabbed your wrist and pried the knife out of your hand again. 

"No!" you screamed only you didn't use your voice. The thought was so loud and forceful that it knocked Bucky backwards. Your eyes rolled back into your head and you felt the blood gush from your nose before you passed out. 

(to be continued. . .)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The phrasing in this chapter feels weird? Maybe it's just me?? I'm running on fumes and I have a bad habit of posting without editing. Hope you enjoyed it regardless :)


	4. You make me remember things I don't want to think about...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky begin to make a connection when you remembered one of those forgotten memories.

With a gasp you sat up in your bed. No - this wasn't your bed. It was a relatively comfortable little mat on the dirt floor of a small hut. You freed yourself from the blanket tucked around you and glanced out the door. The sun was rising over a familiar body of water. Suddenly a familiar voice filled your head. '(Y/N)? I don't want to scare you. . .' 

Bucky was propped up against the far wall blinking the sleep from his eyes. He had hoped that if he just alerted you to his presence quietly in your head it would startle you less than if he had cleared his throat and spoke. It was a mostly correct assumption. It was still jarring to wake somewhere that wasn't your own bed but you had a grip on the situation. "I didn't dream that, did I?" you asked him, your brows furrowed tightly together. You pulled your legs up to your chest and locked your hands around your shins. 

He shook his head. "I shouldn't have touched you. I'm sorry," he apologized. If he had known you would've reacted like that he never would've done that. He probably shouldn't have done it anyway. He just didn't want you to go. He hated that you were afraid of him and he wanted closure as much as you did. 

You pulled your thumb to your lips and nervously bit at whatever was left of your stubby nails. You had gotten better at breaking your bad habit but had started up again once you got to Wakanda. "I thought I had a better grip on this than I did," you explained before apologizing. You sighed and covered your face. Completely melting down in front of Bucky had been embarrassing; you had come to see him to make peace and you had attacked him. 

"I get them, too," Bucky said in an attempt to make you feel a little less ashamed. "Flashbacks. Nightmares. Mostly nightmares. I'm glad I don't have my left arm anymore. . ." He glanced over at his shoulder and sighed. He was glad he just didn't ever have to stress about hurting anyone with his grip again. 

Your hands slipped from your face and rested in your lap. You played with the hem of your shirt in an attempt to keep yourself from biting your fingernails down to the quick; it hurt when they bled. "I don't usually get flashbacks. I don't remember most of what happened," you admitted. The beginning you could remember but recalling the middle and end were hazy, fading dreams at best. 

"Probably for the best," Bucky sighed. He wasn't so lucky because he could remember everything and everyone. It was a heavy burden but one he was almost thankful for - it kept him humbled and it made him work harder on bettering himself and finding his new identity. 

Your body knotted. "You can't think about it. Not around me," you said. If he reflected back on the times he had hurt you when you were around to hear his thoughts, then you'd also have to experience the memories too. It was clear you weren't ready for that since him touching you was enough to send you into a fit. 

Not thinking of something was easier said than done, though. Bucky did his best to think about something else, anything else. The violent images of him dragging your limp body out of your home were soon replaced with a little melody that he had learned from the children the other day. You thanked him and fiddled with your fingers. 

"There's seriously nothing you can do to stay out of someone's head?" He asked. It was a question you were asked pretty frequently but he approached the topic with less hostility and blame than most others did. "I just mean. . . how do you even handle that?" You glanced up and met his eyes. Most people didn't care about the toll it took on you to have to hear a plethora of voices in your head - they were only considered with the privacy of their own mind. 

You shrugged and sighed. "It can get loud. . . loud enough I can lose my own voice. If I'm distracted enough, it ends up being more like white noise in the back of my head. It's actually harder to muffle other thoughts when there's less people around. . ." Right now all you could hear was Bucky's own thoughts. There was nothing else there to drown them out. When you were in a crowd, though, while you could focus on individual thoughts if you wanted to, it was easier to let all of the voices blend into one distorted sound. "I've never known any different so I think the silence would be more deafening." 

He nodded in understanding. "When someone has a song stuck in their head it can almost be like tuning into the radio," you added with a chuckle. You had always found pleasure in hearing all of the earworms that found their way into people's heads. When it was just someone singing in your head, it was easier to push their voice further away so you could focus on your own thoughts. 

'She has a nice laugh,' you heard him think and met his eyes again. You blushed. So did he. He was going to have to be careful with what he thought around you unless he wanted to embarrass himself. You glanced out the doorway and watched as the sun completely rose above the water. 

"You know, I felt like a complete idiot when I found out who you really were," you broke the silence. His gaze still rested gently on you. "I spent all of these years thinking I only recognized you because of. . . but when Steve told me that you were the Sergeant Barnes, I suddenly remembered this horribly boring history teacher I had in secondary school who would talk endlessly about Captain America and the Howling Commandos. Maybe it was your hair or something. . ." You chuckled again only to try and keep any tension from building. You probably hadn't recognized him because he was supposed to be dead and because you were under too much stress to register something like that. 

Bucky softly smiled. The children had pulled some of his hair into a bun; it didn't look bad on him. "I thought maybe you'd recognize me when you made those attacks in DC. . . you didn't recognize Natasha either. She almost seemed upset by that," you remarked, a nervous grin on your lips. Instead of chewing at your nails, you picked at them until they were tender. They bled at the cuticles. 

"They reset me every time," he said quietly. "No connections. No relationships. The perfect soldier." 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't bring it up," you apologized quickly. It wasn't fair of you to bring up his traumas when you couldn't even handle your own. Your legs felt weak as you stood but you forced yourself outside to get some of that fresh morning air. You rolled your shoulders back and stretched your arms. 

Bucky followed you outside. "(Y/N), it's alright. If it helps you to talk about it. . ." You should already know that he was willing to put up with reliving some bad memories if it would help you get better. He felt responsible for all of your trauma and so he was holding himself accountable for your recovery. "I can remember everything. . ." So you bringing it up was nothing more than a reminder that you remembered something too. 

"Do you know how I got out?" you asked quietly. He stood beside you, close enough that you could've felt his presence if your eyes were closed. Your body tensed in defense but you kept your feet planted. You jammed your hands into your pockets and you realized that you didn't have your knives. That was probably for the best in this moment in case you relapsed again. "I can only remember passing out the first time and then when I woke again I was with SHIELD."

Bucky glanced over at you. 'Makes sense that you wouldn't remember that,' he thought. He cleared his throat. "You had some sort of. . . I don't even know. A brain blast, I guess." Your eyebrows furrowed together as you tried to remember but it wasn't ringing any bells. "Everyone had this deafening and constant scream in their head. You took your chance to escape while everyone was incapacitated. The ringing lasted about fifteen minutes until you found the exit. I guess your little mind trick stretched out over miles. SHIELD picked up on the energy reading and you were snatched up before we could retrieve you." The scream was not one Bucky could ever forget and it echoed in his mind - which meant it echoed in your own as well. 

Your knees buckled and Bucky, against his better judgement, grabbed your upper arm to keep you from collapsing. He helped you down slowly where you sat with wide eyes - your expression blank otherwise. You remembered now. 

You had thought you were going to die but it had been worth trying. It felt like your brain had melted. Blood ran from your nose and your ears and your eyes. You remember barely being able to see through the blood. How terrified you had been. The men screaming as you passed them, clutching their heads and scratching at their ears in an attempt to remove the sound. Only they couldn't because it was in their head. It was your own scream - so visceral and emotional. Nick Fury had wanted to weaponize that ability but you had no memory of ever performing something so powerful. 

Tears welled in your eyes and a sob choked in your throat. You covered your mouth to catch the yelp but it slipped between your fingers. Bucky didn't know what to do to comfort you. He wanted to place a comforting hand on your back but he was afraid that might just make it worse. "I really thought I was going to die," you whimpered. "That scream ripped through my head, too." You hid your face in your hand and cried awhile longer before gaining composure. Bucky had taken a seat beside you but didn't touch you. He offered only his company. 

The scream was still bouncing around in the crevices of your mind but with each ricochet it grew quieter and more distant. Bucky was rolling around with a few forms of apologies in his head. Even if he consciously knew that you could hear his thoughts, most people were unable to adapt to a way of thinking that acknowledged your constant presence in their mind. 

"Thank-you," you sighed a shaky breath before he could apologize. You wiped your eyes and wrung your shaky hands nervously in your lap. "I need to know. I know I should remember everything but I think that's probably enough for me for now." You turned your gaze to him. "It's really hard but I'm trying." You were constantly ashamed with how poorly you handled your trauma when every other Avenger seemed to manage their own issues without bursting into tears. (Well, at least you didn't create a killer AI like Tony so there was that at least.)

"You're doing just fine," Bucky assured you genuinely. He knew every single thing that you had been put through. He had been present and so he knew you had every right to be traumatized. He put his hand on your back anyway and felt your muscles ripple with tension. But you didn't cry and you didn't try to attack him. You were doing better than you gave yourself credit for.


	5. Maybe you're not so bad after all. . .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky grow closer after you catch a nasty sickness and he's there to take care of you.

Your sheets were drenched from your sweat, your skin was sickly pale, your stomach in a nasty knot that pushed bile up your throat. Every time you'd lean over the side of the bed to puke, Bucky was there with a clean bucket. "You don't have to stay," you exhaled and closed your eyes. The fever already made you feel weak and every time you got sick you only felt weaker. 

He placed a cool, damp rag on your forehead. "Yes, I do," he corrected you. He tucked the blankets around you tightly as if that might stop your shivering. If only he hadn't taken you out on the water. The two of you had grown more comfortable being in each other's presence and were actually quite friendly. It's why he had thought that taking a little boat out on the water might be something fun for the two of you to do. You knew he was developing some budding romantic feelings for you - it was hard to keep secrets from someone who could read minds. 

The two of you had been having a nice time watching the sun set and listening to the nocturnal creatures come out to sing. You could hear him hyping himself up to ask you on an actual date but he kept talking himself out of it. Why would you want to date him of all people?! You could do so much better, he would tell himself. You slipped your hand into his. "Just ask," you whispered to him. 

His nose scrunched and he cursed himself. It was so easy to forget that you could always hear his thoughts. "I just wanted to know if I could take you to dinner," he asked and scratched the back of his head. The ever-so suave flirt from seventy years ago was more than a little rusty at the whole dating thing. You found it charming. 

"I think that'd be okay," you chuckled. Who would've thunk? Breaking down and being so vulnerable in front of him had kind of helped you get past any of the previous qualms you had about being in his presence. A week inside his unadulterated mind helped you come to terms with the fact that the Winter Soldier was gone, too. All that was left was Bucky Barnes. 

He smiled. He wanted to kiss you. Your eyes fell on his lips but you weren't ready for that. One step at a time. It was already hard to believe you had accepted a date with him. Any sort of intimacy will have to come after that. His eyes were also on your own lips. He imagined what it would be like to kiss you which made you blush since you could see what he was picturing. Eventually he figured that out and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Sorry," he apologized bashfully and you laughed gently. It was flattering even if it was a little awkward. 

He grabbed the oar to steer back to the shore. It happened pretty quickly. He used too much force to compensate only rowing with arm (he was adamant he didn't need your help) and the boat capsized. It was a small boat and the water was calm so it shouldn't have been more than an inconvenience to fall overboard. The way you had fallen in and the way the boat flipped over proved to make things more difficult. The hard wood knocked you on your head. 

In an almost cartoonish fashion, you really felt like you could see stars twinkling around your head. Your eyes rolled back as you lost consciousness and sank under the water. Bucky struggled to flip the boat back over but once he had done that he realized that he couldn't see you. He called out your name as panic began to set in. He dove under the water and saw you floating lifelessly. With his only arm, he managed to pull your head above the surface. He didn't have the dexterity to toss you in the boat since he had the inconvenience of missing a limb. He used his legs to paddle and kick your bodies to the shore. 

He laid you down on the muddy surface and felt for a pulse on your neck. "Fuck." He pressed his hand to your chest and pumped once, twice, thirty times. He laid his head to your chest and cursed again. He pulled your mouth open, pinched your nose, and blew in a heavy breath. Nothing. He moved back to your chest. He pumped once, twice - you coughed and sputtered as the water that had filled your lungs came rushing back out past your lips. A large gasp of air filled your lungs, the fresh air burning your insides as they were brought back to life. Your fingers moved through your hair and came away bloody. 

"Shit," you whispered. Your ears were ringing, your stomach knotted, and your head pounding. "Probably a concussion." You pushed yourself to your feet and watched your boat bounce out on the water. Bucky swam back out and brought the boat to shore so you wouldn't have to swim or walk all the way back. 

It felt like ages to get back home. "You don't have to beat yourself up so much," you said as Bucky helped you out of the boat. Every time something bad happened to you around him he took the blame upon himself. It wasn't necessary. Not anymore. He took responsibility for the malicious things he had done in the past. That's all you needed. Sometimes accidents and bad things just happened. 

You had a minor concussion but that wasn't really the issue. The problem was the dirty water you had accidentally ingested. A nasty bacteria had made its home in your body and you were reaping the consequences of that now. "It's not your fault," you had to remind Bucky as he sat by your bedside to take care of you. The sickness should pass within a couple days and he was intent on staying by your side in case you needed anything during that time. 

This was the first time he had been to your little apartment. It was brilliantly modern and sleek, a huge difference from his humble hut. "Sorry to have to cancel our little date," you apologized quietly and pulled the blankets even tighter around yourself. 

"Don't worry about it," he offered a grin. 

"What would we have done?" You asked with a girlish smile. "Wait - don't tell me just. . . show me." You closed your eyes. If he pictured it in his head, then you could see it too. Right now you needed a pick-me-up from this terrible, uncomfortable state you were in. 

He exhaled slowly and watched you. You were cute even when you were sick. "I would've picked you up and we'd walk to this restaurant. . . it's one Shuri suggested," he explained out loud but had the image in his mind. He had been talking to Shuri about this for awhile and you hadn't known that. Maybe he was better at keeping things from you than you thought. It took a lot of conscious work to NOT think about something.

The image appeared in your head. There he stood in a sleek outfit that Shuri had picked for him. His beard was trimmed down and his hair was pulled back into a half-bun. A smile grin made its home on your face. "Tell me more. What would we do next?" you asked in a whisper. 

"I would've taken you to see the falls," he said. He hadn't seen them himself so the two of you shared a very imaginary image of what he expected the waterfalls to look like. "We could've stayed and watched the sunset." It was an activity the two of you had grown fond of doing together - watching the day come to a close. A happy hum escaped your lips. Anything would be better than being sick but that really did seem nice.

"You're pulling out all the stops. It'd be a first date for the books," you informed him. "You'll have to actually take me once I'm feeling better." Your eyes remained closed and you felt the beckon of sleep whisper your name. Bucky smiled and turned out the light so you could rest. His fingers brushed through your hair and he stepped right outside the door so you could rest but he could remain within earshot. 

As you were drifting off you had new images flash in your mind. He was picturing the rest of the date. He'd take you back home and kiss you at the door. He thought an awful lot about your lips - enough that your lips grew fuzzy from thinking about it. Butterflies tickled your already sensitive stomach. 

Since he thought you were asleep, Bucky thought it would be safe to continue daydreaming about you. You'd invite him in and the door would barely close before there was a shower of clothes and the two of you ended up naked. He'd never seen you naked so he had to imagine what he'd see under all of your clothes. He was pretty perceptive because his guess was relatively accurate. Even with your fever, you felt a warm blush spread across your cheeks. He imagined backing you into the couch and climbing over you.

'Bucky,' you whispered in his mind. The image quickly faded from your head and he popped his head in. You were afraid to let it go much further. It was weird to see someone's sex fantasy about you. 

"What do you need?" he asked. He knew. You were awake and that meant you had seen in his head. Even in the dark you could tell that he was red with embarrassment. He scratched the back of his head. 

"Just be patient. Okay?" you cracked a tired smile. Who's to say that the night wouldn't go like he imagined it? You could see yourself having a good time. But for now, you just needed to sleep.


	6. It's not all bad all of the time. . .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky finally get to go on that first date. For the first time probably ever, the night goes off without a hitch. The two of you deserve one good thing. 
> 
> A/N: This is just the fluffiest chapter of the series so :) . . . but also it is kind of smutty so double-whammy :)

"You're nervous," you laughed after opening the door. It didn't take a mindreader to tell that. You leaned against the door frame and took him in. It was really difficult to surprise you but he had done just that anyway. Maybe it was last minute decision which is why you hadn't known about it beforehand. . . either way, you were really enjoying his new haircut. His hair really had been getting shaggy so getting it cut nice and short was a huge improvement. With that and his freshly shaved face, he almost looked like a new man. That was sort of the point. This was Bucky Barnes, not the Winter Soldier. 

"I set the bar pretty high for myself," Bucky smiled and handed you a beautiful bouquet of flowers. You placed them in a vase on your table, the vibrant colors really popping in your otherwise pretty simple apartment. He had a point though. After a week of getting over your sickness and having been told what to expect, you were planning on a pretty spectacular night. "You look beautiful." 

"You do, too," you smiled and then your expression fell. "Handsome! I mean. . ." You smacked your palm to your face. Smooth. He just laughed. Your tiny blunder was all he needed to relax. This would be a really good night, he could feel it. 

He offered his arm like the gentleman he was and you slid both of your hands around his strong forearm. He looked pretty slick and you were having a hard time keeping your eyes off of him. Instead of taking you to eat, he was going to take you to see the waterfalls first. A slight change of plans just to spice things up a little bit. He didn't want it to be exactly like he told you before - that would lack excitement!

It was more breathtaking than either of you could've imagined. There was a perfect little rocky spot that the two of you settled on to watch the falls. The spray from the falling water beside you littered your skin in soft kisses. The rushing roar of the water that fell below you was calming as a lullaby. This was a really romantic spot; he had done well. 

"It's beautiful," you said and scooted in closer to him. When the two of you had sat down to enjoy the view, he had given you a little bit of space. He wasn't trying to rush things. But since you had moved in closer to him he took it as a sign that he could wrap his arm around your waist. Your head rested on his shoulder and you listened to his racing thoughts - it was almost like a chaotic orchestral piece where all of the instruments were playing loudly and at once. 

"You really don't have to be so nervous," you reminded him. Your left hand glided across your abdomen and rested over his fingers that were placed on your hips. Your fingers loosely laced together. "I'm not afraid of you anymore," you whispered and glanced up at him. "You don't have to worry about trying so hard." One of his reoccurring thoughts was that he would damage you more than he already had. You didn't want to tell him that him constantly thinking about it was more stressful for you because it meant you had to think about it more often than you'd like. He was just Bucky and you knew that now. There was no need for him to make every second of your time together perfect in order for you to like him.

"Sometimes I forget just how much you're in my head," he said and stared out. The two of you were pretty high since you were between the heights of two waterfalls. The view of the valley was magnificent. Your stomach knotted guiltily. It wasn't fair that he wasn't allowed to have his own private worries and concerns. He didn't blame you but it was still something he wasn't a fan of. It was one of the reasons he remained nervous. 

You chewed on the inside of your cheek and sighed. It wasn't fair. . . but maybe you could make it a little more so. 'What if I shared all my thoughts with you?' you whispered in his mind which made him turn his attention to you. 'Either this will make him uncomfortable or maybe it'll help.' You shared every thought that popped into your head. 

A smile crossed his lips. 'I'm not going to ask you to do that. I don't know if I can handle someone else in my head at all times,' he thought. That was fair. You had spent your whole life adjusted to hearing more than one voice in your head at a time. It was a hard adjustment though. After Steve had rescued you from the prison, you had suffered through days of migraines as your head readjusted to hearing voices again. 

'How about we make a deal then?' you asked, still in his mind. 'I promise to always tell you what I'm thinking but you have to promise to ask when you want to know.' It's not like you wouldn't know when he was curious anyway. 

He pulled his hand from your waist and took your hand in his so he could squeeze it. "Deal," he promised with a smile. "You want to tell me why you agreed to come on a date with me then?" It was an awkward and vulnerable question but you obviously had already heard him wondering about it in his head. 

"I know what you think about me," you admitted what he must already know to be true. "I don't deserve all the praise you give me. . . but no one's ever thought about me like that before. It's hard for me to. . . do anything with people but especially date. There's this lack of trust since I can be in someone's head. You don't hold that against me though." It was a selfish reason to go on a date with someone - just because you liked that they liked you. But there was this warmth that came from his trust that you were unfamiliar with and you wanted to explore that feeling some more. 

"You didn't have to help me," Bucky spoke. "I know. . . I know you did it because Steve asked you. But you helped in Bucharest and you helped me here. . . you didn't have to and you did it anyway. Says a lot about a person." He squeezed your hand again. "I did a lot to hurt you and one day you just. . . weren't afraid of me." So maybe it was okay that you had agreed to go on a date because you liked how he made you feel - he wanted to go out with you because of how you made him feel too. While he still condemned himself as a monster, you no longer did. A large weight had been taken off his chest because of it. 

Your head rest against his shoulder and you pursed your lips to try and hide your budding smile. "And you think I'm pretty," you added teasingly. You weren't great at taking compliments so were trying to brush it off. You certainly didn't always feel like a good person but he definitely thought you were. He also thought about undressing you more than even he probably realized. It was something you had grown a little more used to because a lot of men daydreamed about explicit things. 

"If you remembered correctly, I'm pretty sure I usually think about how beautiful you are," Bucky chuckled. Pretty just seemed a more vapid term to him. You were a lot more than just pretty. Your laugh mixed with his creating a delightful harmony. He was certainly a charmer. 

"Well, you cleaned up quite nice," you complimented him in return. You sat up and traced his jawline. "Can't imagine why you'd hide this behind a beard." He laughed again. He was always thinking about how pleasant your laugh was but his laugh was really something else - a warm drink on a cold morning or that first breath of a summer wind. You'd drink his laugh if you could. 

"What're you thinking right now?" he asked you quietly, taking full advantage of that deal you just made. 

You blushed. "You have a nice laugh, is all. I just wish you'd laugh more," you admitted. Now you understood the vulnerability everyone else felt. It could be a little uncomfortable and embarrassing. But it also felt liberating to just say how you felt. No secrets. Maybe by telling him that you liked his laugh he would do it more. He didn't laugh hardly enough though he did seem to smile more than he used to. 

"Well, I'd like if you laughed more too," he replied. 

"You going to make me laugh, then?" The two of you chuckled before sharing a long gaze. The longer he stared into your eyes and you stared into his, the more intimate and comfortable it grew. A warmth spread across your skin and your lips tingled. 

"What are you thinking now?" Bucky whispered. He wanted to kiss you. He had plans to take you to a romantic dinner and then sitting by a little campfire and watching the stars. Those plans were so clouded by his desire to kiss you that you couldn't hear them. It's possible you wouldn't have heard them anyway since all you could focus on were his own lips. 

Maybe this agreement to share what you were thinking was going to be more than you signed up for. But fair was fair, was it not? You had made a promise. Besides, you weren't going to make a fool of yourself since you knew he was thinking the same thing. "I'm thinking that I want you to kiss me," your breath light as air. 

He moved his hand to the small of your back as he leaned in and pressed his lips ever so gently to yours. Your lower lip catching between both of his for just a moment. You cupped his face with one of your hands. Every nerve in your body lit up under his gentle touch. Who would have thought that the man who caused so much chaos and destruction in your own life could possibly be this tender? He pressed you in closer to him. 

It wasn't until your lungs began to burn that you realized you were holding your breath. Maybe it was because you didn't want to break the kiss for even a moment. Or perhaps you were so distracted by his thoughts that you simply just forgot to breathe. He was thinking about how he had made dinner reservations but he also didn't want to stop kissing you. 

'I'm not that hungry,' you confessed through your thoughts. Communicating through thoughts was beneficial when you were trying to keep your lips pressed to his. You moved onto his lap and slipped your arms around his neck, his hand remaining on the small of your back. He didn't have much of an appetite either since he had been so nervous about today. It was going better than he could've ever imagined though. 

"I know what you think about," you said out loud, finally pulling from the kiss. "I think about it, too, you know." He tilted his head to the side, unsure of what thing you thought about too. How to go about this. . .

There were two approaches you could take. The first was just explaining yourself. That would've been just fine. You decided to follow the route of the second approach. Your fingers traced down his chest and curled around the fabric of his shirt before you pulled it over his head. His bare chest heaved heavily before freezing as your fingers moved across his muscles. You weren't sure why you were expecting more scars to cover his body but it wasn't nearly as bad as you had been expecting; he was good at what he did so he didn't receive too much damage. 

"I know that you fantasize about me, Buck," you whispered to him. He blushed. It was something he knew but pushed to the back of his mind. He couldn't help it sometimes. You shimmied your dress off over your head, still sitting on his lap except now you were just in your undergarments. "You think about it a lot." He was far from the first person to think about it but he certainly thought about it the most. It was like watching a porn staring the two of you. The more he thought about it, the more it turned you on as well. You had grown curious about what it would actually be like. 

Bucky would've been more embarrassed (not to say he wasn't at least a little embarrassed) if you weren't currently undressing the both of you. You both blushed as you said, "You think pretty highly of yourself. So I'm just. . . curious." Most men thought of themselves as well-endowed and they hardly were. Judging by the sprouting excitement growing in his drawers you had an assumption he wasn't exaggerating too much. 

He traced the outline of your figure, taking in every crease, curve, and angle of your frame. 'Beautiful.' His hand moved to your back and up to your bra. It was just like riding a bike - muscle memory allowed him to undo the clasps with ease. Your bra fell down your arms and you tossed it over near your dress. He smirked as his hand cupped your breast. "Definitely been thinking about this for awhile," he confessed but of course you knew. 

You weren't afraid of sleeping with him. His intentions were pure. He didn't just look at you like you were a slab of meat or a like you were a conquest. He was invested in your well-being and happiness - he just also happened to find you incredibly sexy. If he had been playing you just for sex, you never would've done what you were doing. It felt right though. 

Your fingers fumbled with his pants and you pulled the hem down enough to spring him free. You blushed and laughed excitedly. Your pressed your forehead to his. He really hadn't been generous with his own image - he was large enough that he didn't have to pretend there were a few more inches down there. 

"You're definitely sure you want to do this, (Y/N)?" Bucky asked you. This was the first real date he had been on since the 40s and usually it took more than just the first date for him to see some action. He just wanted to make sure this was something you really wanted. 

"I definitely want to do this," you breathed. No time for jokes or sarcasm. You really did want him. You pulled your damp panties to the side so he had full access to your body. Your lips crashed against his as you felt his pulsating member twitch against your thigh. "I want this." He pulled his hand from your breast just to adjust himself underneath you. He used to be more in charge but because he had one arm he didn't mind letting you do the riding. It would allow him to resume playing with your steadily hardening nipples. He pressed one between his thumb and forefinger which pushed a moan past your lips. 

Your body settled slowly over his thick shaft. You kept your hands on his shoulders for balance as you slowly let his full length press inside your dripping center. A slur of expletives suddenly filled your head and you smiled. His warm tongue pushed past your lips and into your mouth. 

As your core adjusted to his size, you were able to gain some speed, bouncing your hips up and down on his. He did what he could, thrusting upwards into you every time your body came back down on his. It was natural and easy. His lips trailed from your lips down to your neck where his butterfly kisses left your body covered in goosebumps. In return, a slur of your own expletives filled his head. He also smiled. 

The steady, impassioned sigh that filled your body was soon replaced with a crescendo of moans. Was foreplay always an added bonus? Well, duh. Was it necessary for you to climax? Not quite. There was something about being in someone else's head while your two bodies were one that really increases the amount of oxytocin released in your body. 

The sex-flushed skin and trembling hands and thighs were a good indication that you were about to finish. Bucky was more than relieved that you were easy to satisfy. He hadn't been laid in quite a long time so he had been afraid that he wouldn't last long enough to let you finish first. Being the gentleman he was, he would've finished you afterwards but there something about that that took a hit to his ego. What kind of man was he if he couldn't satisfy his woman properly?!

Your fingernails dug into his shoulders as his lips moved back to yours. You bit down on his lower lip and accidentally broke the skin as you felt the ripple of an orgasm shoot through your body. You threw your head back and gasped. You bit your own lower lip to try and muffle the low, heavy moan on your tongue. 

"Fuck, Bucky!" You screamed as the height of your orgasm caused your whole body to quiver excitedly, those feel-good endorphins almost too much for your body to handle. He rested his forehead against your clavicle as your head remained thrown back. High, staccato moans escaped your mouth as he kept inside you even after you had finished. He thrust deeply, almost roughly, inside you as he neared his own finish. 

A quite groan pressed against your skin as he allowed one more full-length thrust inside you before pulling out. His fingers didn't even have time to wrap around his dick before he was finishing, his seed on your thigh. The two of you sat in silence, your breathing opposite but equal. He used his arm to pull you in close, your chest pressed to his, and he kissed you deeply. 

You held his face and ran your fingers through his new haircut. "Sorry, we missed our dinner reservation," you whispered against his lips. You weren't sure if you'd ever catch your breath again. That had been really good. 

He chuckled and shook his head. He continually pecked at your lips. "Don't ever apologize for that." He'd have to be crazy to prefer dinner over what had just happened. The two of you kissed until your lips were raw and chapped and blissfully numb. You pulled away from his grasp so you could clean yourself up a little and get dressed. 

You dipped into the running just a little bit and he watched you get dressed with a genuine, pure softness. He could see himself falling in love with you. It was way too early to be in love with you and he wasn't. But after tonight he was a little more in love with you than he had been before. "Don't do that," you said and turned to look at him. "Don't."

He didn't need to be thinking about falling in love. That was a vulnerability you knew you weren't ready for yet. You had already taken quite a few large steps with him. He didn't need to be even thinking about love because you didn't want to think about it either. "Sorry. I'll stop," he promised. 

You pulled your dress on and adjusted yourself before handing him his shirt. 'Liar,' you whispered in his mind. He glanced at you with a glint in his eye. You laughed and took his hand. "Come on. You're staying with me tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goal is always to post once a day but I have had a couple things come up. If I miss a day, don't worry. If I can't post every day, I will definitely post every other day so please stay tuned :)


	7. You're thinking things that you just shouldn't be thinking. . .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky grow very close and spend almost all of your time together as you decide to go steady. You keep warning him not to fall in love with you but you should've been more worried about him thinking about your shared past. Will you be able to get through it without breaking? Especially with an impending battle on its way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late!! Not only is this chapter longer than usual but I'm trying to readjust to my old sleep schedule now that I've had to return to work and it's been a struggle to stay awake long enough to write something coherent 😭 I hope that this chapter was worth the wait! I promise to finish the story! I just don't have a set posting schedule any more. Sorry 😭

You laid on his left side with your head on his chest, his right hand tracing up and down your arm leaving your body covered in satisfying chills. "Bucky, stop," you'd whisper. You hadn't meant his hand though he moved it to his side. Resting your forearms on his chest, you propped yourself up and met his eyes. "You don't love me," you reminded him firmly. 

Too often had he been letting his mind wander lately. 'She's so beautiful and I want to give her the love she deserves.' 'I feel I owe her everything.' 'She's everything.' All love language and all too much for you to handle. You had struggled with intimacy after coming back from your traumatizing experience and you were so young when it happened that all of your previous trysts were just youthful adventures. This was the first time you had something real. It was just moving so fast. 

"I never said I did," Bucky said and kept going before you could interrupt him. "I didn't think it either." He didn't love you. . . well, he didn't not love you. It had been a long time since anyone had shown him any sort of kindness or affection so he was falling a little faster than usual. He wasn't even sure what love felt like since he had never truly been in love before. Maybe this was love and he didn't know it which is why you kept scolding him. He couldn't help it. You made him happy. 

You propped yourself up and met his eyes. "You can't lie to me," you warned him with a warm smile and peck to the lips. 

"Well, God forbid somebody love you." He pulled you into a deeper kiss, his hand moving up your hip and onto the small of your back. He flipped you back down onto the bed. He hovered over you and kissed you while still keeping your bodies close. You ran your fingers through his hair. It was beginning to look shaggy again and he hadn't shaved in awhile. This look was starting to grow on you. 

He pressed his forehead to yours and the two of you closed your eyes. 'Promise me that you don't think those things about me because you feel sorry for me,' you whispered in his mind. A part of you was always worried that since he felt a responsibility to make things up to you for hurting you so much before that most of this was just reparations and not real. You opened your eyes when you felt his gaze on you. 

'I promise.' And you could tell he wasn't lying. He began kissing you again. 

Eventually you pulled away from him. Usually your stopping point was when your lips grew numb and that familiar buzz began to tingle on your bottom lip. "I have to shower," you told him and rolled out of bed. You turned around to face him since you knew full well he was trying to follow you in there. "I have to get clean," you corrected yourself. If he joined you then you knew full well that the two of you would fool around until the water grew too cold to stand under and you desperately needed to shampoo and shave. 

He groaned but reluctantly stayed in bed. "How will I go on?" he teased you with a chuckle. You both laughed, a warm and honey sound. 

You slipped into the shower and as you began to massage the fruity shampoo into your scalp, you could hear two more voices in your mind. You could hear Bucky grumble to himself as he dressed and got out of bed to answer the door. T'Challa and Shuri were waiting on the other side. It was kind of nice to be able to stay in the loop without getting out of the shower. Or so you thought until you heard what they were discussing. 

It took all of your ability to focus on the sound of the running water instead of the conversation happening on the other side of the wall. Of course, as much as you could pretend that the shower was the only thing you heard the truth was that you knew exactly what was being said and done. You sat down and let the water rush over your slick body until it grew unbearably icy cold. 

You pulled a towel around your body but didn't have the patience or the energy to throw a towel around your hair so you let it drip down your back. Bucky was sitting on the bed waiting for you to exit the bathroom. With how long you had been in there, he knew full well that you had heard everything. It wasn't what Shuri and T'Challa had said to him that was the issue. It's what he had thought about during the entire exhange and what he was still thinking about after they left. 

He wrung his hands, something he hadn't done in a long time now. He flexed his new metal fingers on his left hand, continually curling them and uncurling them as he readjusted to the sensation of a new limb. It looked good. The black and gold combination on his sleekly designed arm was something Shuri was justly proud about. He looked good too - full and filled out. Had the arm been flesh colored, it almost would've looked real - almost. It certainly fit his frame better than his last arm which was far too bulky and heavy. 

His old metal arm. . . it had caused you so much anxiety. You were in a much better place with him now so looking at his new arm (one that had never been built by, used by, or touched by Hydra) was something that was less difficult than you imagined it to be. Well. . . it would've been had his mind not filled with violent thoughts that you couldn't escape. Whatever he thought, you were forced to listen. 

Tears dripped from your nose and your chin, falling onto your towel. He was having a hard time making eye contact with you. "You have to tell me what you're thinking," his voice was low and husky. You shifted uncomfortably on your feet. 

"It's not your fault you thought about it. I can't be mad that you thought about it. . ." Your voice cracked which is what drew his attention to your face. He stood slowly, cautiously before moving over to you and bringing you into his embrace. Both of his hands moved around your body before he made the conscious decision to let his left arm fall to his side. Your body had adjusted to being held by just one arm anyway so the addition of his other hand had felt alien. 

"I'm sorry, (Y/N). I try and help it as much as I can. You know I do," Bucky apologized, the regret tinging his voice. The last time he had thought about what had happened to you after he had kidnapped you all those years ago you had a complete meltdown. He had vowed to do all that he could to push those memories into the back of his mind in a place where he would never look. But when he was brought a new arm and was asked to fight again, his stomach had filled with fear. He was nervous that you'd be afraid of him now that he had a new arm. Why wouldn't you be? He had nearly choked the life out of you with it at one point. 

That was one of your locked away memories. It wasn't so locked away now. You remembered that moment quite clearly and even now you were uncomfortable in his arms, which was unfair to both of you (but especially him) and it broke your heart for just about a million reasons. There went all of that progress you had thought you made; you felt so small and fragile again. At this point, you weren't even sure of the toll it would take on your relationship with Bucky. Your wonderful morning had turned to shit so quickly. 

The longer the memory sat in your head the more time you had to stew. Your lungs began to burn and your heart was tearing its way out of your chest. When had you stopped breathing? You pulled out of his embrace and paced around the room. "I'm fine!" you snapped at him, his concerns about your well-being poking your mind like a cattle-prod. "You don't think I can't handle this?" 

If your tear-stained cheeks hadn't said otherwise, the way your chest convulsed as you tried to swallow back your sobs certainly did. You wrung your neck and massaged your shoulders before holding your chest. You gasped shallowly as the sobs moved from your chest into your throat blocking out any air from coming in or out. A body-shaking cry erupted from your core and you fell to your hands and knees. For a just a brief moment, there was no cry left in your body which gave you just enough time to take in one very long, unsteady breath. 

The breath of fresh air was fuel to the fire. Now that you no longer had to panic about breathing (if only in this moment at least) then your mind had nothing more to distract itself from the terror it was being forced to relieve. Your body trembled and shrunk as wails and howls filled the room with a deafening amount of sound. It was as if it was the only sound left and the world had gone silent listening to you weep. 

Bucky had quickly come to your side and placed his right hand on his back. It would always be his right hand, he promised himself then and there. He'd never again lay a metal finger on you. It didn't make a difference to you what hand he touched you with; his touch alone was enough to heighten your terror and anguish. He jerked his hand back as if he had touched fire though it was it him who had caused the damage and not the other way around. 

You weren't in Wakanda anymore. You were back in that terrible Soviet base almost two decades ago. How many times had you told your captors that you could read minds but not control them? They didn't listen, not even to reason. If you could control minds then wouldn't you have made them let you go?! They hadn't gotten anywhere with learning where your powers came from (even though you insisted that you were born with the gift) and they had killed too many of their comrades while trying to transfer your ability over to them. So now they were on their next experiment which was mind control. 

The theory was that if you didn't want Bucky to kill you, then you'd get in his head and make him stop. You had cried. You had begged. The Winter Soldier put his cold, metal fingers around your neck and squeezed. If your eyes didn't pop out of your skull from his inhumanly tight grip, then your lungs would certainly burst out of your rib cage. Tied to a chair, you laid helpless, unable to even scratch and claw for your life. You had reached into his mind and begged for your life up until the moment everything grew dark. The men in charge must have really wanted you alive (to continue experiments you could only assume) because you woke up still tied to the chair which meant you hadn't been blessed with freedom - even if that freedom came at the expense of your life. 

You were only pulled back to reality when your body convulsed in a fit of coughs as you had tried to swallow your cries and they had resisted your efforts. Your fingers danced across your neck as the phantom pain sent you into a new frenzy of bawling. Bucky didn't know what to do but he refused to leave you alone. He took a seat nearby so that he was close if you did need him but far enough away that you weren't suffocated anymore. All he wanted to do was hold you and kiss you and make you better. But he was the last person in the world that could comfort you right now. It killed him. 

A faint ringing filled the room. It was hardly even white noise to you, even as it grew louder. It wasn't so quiet for Bucky. He cupped his ears and his face contorted in pain. "(Y/N)!" He screamed but his voice was like a whisper trying to cross an ocean. It was lost on you. "(Y/N)! Stop!" The room fell silent as his hand gripped your forearm. 

Your focus fell on his hand and moved up to his face. Blood trickled from his ears. The silence was what really struck you. Never had your head been so full of sound and now it felt clear. It was just your own inner voice and his. 'Did I do that?' you wondered and looked around the room a the fractured glass. Nothing had completely shattered but the windows, glass frames, and phone screens were all splintered. 

There was an eerie calm that had washed over your body when he touched you. Your face was still wet with tears but your body sat hushed and still. 'I remember everything now.' Bucky winced regretfully as your thoughts boomed with clarity in his head. In his shame, he couldn't even look at you. 

What had finally been the trigger that unlocked all of those repressed memories you would never know for certain. Was it his touch or was it the strength of your own mind? That had only been your second burst of power like that after all. And after your first burst, that seemed to be when all of your memories locked themselves away. It's like you had put them away yourself as an act of self-protection so it would make sense that it was your own actions that would help you remember every little detail now. 

You laid back on the floor and closed your eyes. Your damp towel still clung to your body. "I remember there was a moment where you paused. I know they told you to do something to me but it was Russian and I couldn't understand them at the time. I don't know what it was but you paused. And for just a moment I saw your eyes. . . these eyes." You turned to face him and grabbed his cheeks so he was forced to look at you. You needed to take in every depth and shade and sparkle in those kind, blue eyes. In that moment, he had became a man and not a monster. Something in him was shaking and the coding was starting to crack. You had watched in terror as he was dragged away to be reprogrammed yet again. 

Bucky held your gaze. He did what he could to not think about what they had asked of him. It wasn't something you wanted to know. Since he had learned you that you knew Russian, he forced himself to remember what had been said in Romanian. Part of you wanted to know. What had he protected you from? But if he was so terrified to let you find out, then you weren't going to look a gift horse in the mouth and beg for him to tell you. 

You took his right hand. It's not like you were magically fixed and were suddenly just okay with his metal arm. Those freed memories were going to haunt you for a very long time. "As long as you keep looking at me with these eyes, I won't be afraid of you," you swore to him. The moment he stopped looking at you with empathy and kindness would be the moment you could no longer be in his presence and you had a good feeling that that day would never come. 

Bucky squeezed your hand tightly before pulling it to his lips. "I'm never going to hurt you again," he returned a promise. The relief that washed over his body bathed him in warmth and sleepiness. The amount of stress he had endured just watching you completely lose yourself was enough to make him need to lay down. 

You moved into his lap and kissed him gently before just resting your head on his shoulder. The unease in your eyes as your gaze fell onto his metal arm was all he needed to know that maybe you were a little more afraid than you let on. But if you trusted him just enough to let him hold you, then he was okay with that. He was falling in love with you after all. He swallowed the thought when you were around because you asked him to but it was true. You made him feel things he had never felt before - good things, great things - that meant it was love, right? He certainly couldn't imagine it being anything else. One day he would tell you and you would say it back but that wasn't a fire he was going to light right now even if he thought that if you heard it then you'd feel better, safer. "Let's get through today and then we'll take it from there. Okay?" he asked you gingerly instead. 

"Okay," you whispered and pulled yourself to your feet. For a moment you had forgotten that a battle was on its way. You hated to fight, even if you had gotten increasingly better at it during your time as an Avenger. But when duty called, you had to answer. So you slipped into a comfortable leather outfit (a la Black Widow) and pulled your hair into a ponytail. "Let's do this thing." 

The two of you left for the palace where you met up with Shuri and T'Challa just in time to watch a jet land. Your heart raced excitedly as the voices inside filled your head. A wide grin spread on your face - almost as if you hadn't just had a giant meltdown earlier that day. Almost bouncing on your toes like a schoolgirl you watched the hatch open and all of your friends pour out. Vision, Wanda, Nat, Steve, Rhodey, Bruce - Bruce?! 

You pulled from Bucky and went rushing over to the recently missing doctor. He nearly fell over when you threw your arms around him. "Bruce! I swear to God I thought you were dead!" you laughed happily. It was so good to see everyone but it was really good to know that he was alright. If only you knew Thor was okay too then you'd feel a little more at peace. Of course, you did wonder where Tony was but questions like that could come later. 

Bucky hugged Steve. You had been Steve during your stay at Wakanda but not like Bucky had been. Steve was one of your closest and longest friends, but he was Bucky's only real and true friend. It was nice to see them reunited. You and Bucky met eyes for just a moment. The two of you had agreed not to tell Steve or anyone that you were dating until after the fight. There was no need for any extra drama while in battle. 

*_*_*_*_*_*

The scale of the fight was far larger than you had been expecting. The Battle of New York had been pretty crazy considering the amount of aliens that had come to attack but this was much more intense. You had even been given a gun to better hold your own which was pretty cool. There had been a few moments where you wanted to try this new brain blast thing but couldn't find the strength or fury inside of you to summon the power to do it. Either way, you were kicking some major ass. 

You were in Bucky's head the whole time during the battle. With so many people around you, the sound in your head was like indecipherable static. But if you could stay in his head, it would help you find his voice through all of the noise. He liked the added bonus of knowing you were alive and well, too. 

Everything seemed to indicate that the battle was yours. Until Thanos showed up. It had to be him, even with no introduction. Somehow he was larger than you had envisioned. The scariest thing was his mind. What sort of willpower did he have to keep you out of his head? How had he been able to tell you were even in there? Bruce had only begun charging at him when he held up his gauntlet and there was a flash of blue. The greenery of the jungle had wrapped around your ankles and yanked you with such force to the ground that the thoughts of everyone but yourself were shaken from your head for just a moment. 

The first voice to reach your mind was Bucky's. 'No! (Y/N)!' he snarled as he charged at Thanos only to be thrown far enough back that he was out of sight. No! The pounding dizziness in your head kept you to the ground, even as you weakly kicked away the plants at your feet. You had to get to Bucky and make sure he was okay! His voice reached you faintly. '(Y/N).' Oh thank God he was still at least alive. 

Your focus was pulled from him as Wanda destroyed the mind stone in Vision's head. The energy released from that particular stone hit you in such a way that your powers were intensified. You felt so immensely alive and powerful. It didn't matter. Because as you stood and reached into Thanos's mind, a green glow enveloped his gauntlet. Time was reversed. If only you had moved a moment faster. . . things could've been different. 

Vision had always been a difficult one to read. He didn't technically have a mind though he had the mind stone. It was confusing and usually uncomfortable so you avoided his mind at all costs. But the pain and fear he felt as his stone was ripped from his head made your body weak. There was nothing worse than hearing the fleeing thoughts of a dying person followed by silence. Absolutely nothing worse. 

But then there was a strike of lightning as Thor came to finish the task that the rest of you could not. With his new weapon, Stormbreaker, he was able to plunge deep in Thanos's chest. Good. You never wanted anyone to die. No one deserved it. Except for maybe this monster trying to kill off half the galaxy. His strength was too great for him to just be thrown in some cell in hopes that he would rot away before he broke out. 

You found the strength to stand and moved to find Bucky only to hear Thor's scream. "No!" A snap. The air felt thin and tingly - something was different and wrong. By the time you turned to face Thor, Thanos had vanished. 

Steve moved into the small clearing with his hand on his side. "Where'd he go?" He spun around frantically. "Thor, where'd he go?" It had to be somewhere we could follow right? Their thoughts were drowning out everyone else's. Nothing was louder in your mind than fear and both of these normally fearless men were afraid. Your knees felt weak but you had to find Bucky. So you pushed past Steve and followed Buck's quiet thoughts. 

"Steve?" You heard him ask and moved around to where he was. You didn't even have time to smile. "(Y/N)-" There was a brief moment of relief as he caught sight of you but mostly he was confused and scared. His gun clattered to the ground as his body fluttered away into nothing. There was a space in your mind now silent. You reached out to him. Silence. 

"Bucky-" your voice cracked and slid over on your knees to where he had just been standing. "Steve! What's happening?" you asked frantically, tears in your eyes. Your hands felt across the jungle floor but there wasn't even ash or dust. There was nothing. You reached out to Bucky in your mind again but there was no answer. What was happening?! Where did he go?!

The chatter in your mind grew quieter and more sparse. There were less minds to fill your head so each terrified thought from those that remained echoed in your skull. People were just vanishing. You looked at your own hands and waited to turn to dust but you remained. Why did you remain? Why was it that you got to stay but Bucky did not? Your eyes moved back to Steve for answers though his mind was racing as much as yours. 

Those that remained came into the clearing. Half. Your numbers were half now. "What is this?" Rhodey asked, his voice tinny in your ringing ears. The sudden silence was dizzying and his spoken words moved through your head as if they had serrated edges. "What the hell is happening?" 

Steve fell back onto his rear end not far from you. Natasha hovered over him and over Vision's lifeless body, unable to fully catch her breath. Bruce and that raccoon were stunned into silence. Thor's moment of fear had turned into an anger that took his mind so far from here that you couldn't hear him. Steve was the one to break the silence which sent chills up your spine. "Oh, God."


	8. How could I have been so stupid before. . . {an interlude}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without Bucky, you feel completely empty. Steve confesses something that Bucky had told him right before the battle which stirs up feelings you didn't know you had. 
> 
> A/N: A short little piece to act as a bridge between pre-Endgame and post-Endgame events.

"You want to talk about it?" Steve asked, leaning against your doorway. You sat on the windowsill and stared out across the empty compound. It was just you and Natasha at the compound now, though sometimes Steve would drop by. Your phone sat open on your lap with an impressive picture of Bucky holding you up on his shoulder as you laughed giddily, nervously open. 

You didn't face him as you replied simply, "Not really." When had you ever really been the kind of person to share so openly? Your own mind had even kept secrets from you for well over a decade. The creak of your mattress drew your attention so you turned and watched Steve take a seat on the corner of your bed. 

"I was a little worried about leaving you in Wakanda with him but part of me had hoped that you'd be able to make peace," Steve confessed. He wrung his hands and looked at you with familiar concern. He was always so worried about everyone else's well-being. If you were a little more powerful, you would reach into his mind and offer him a sense of relief and peace. 

Your sigh filled the room like a heavy fog. "We made peace alright," you exhaled and looked back out the window. Absentmindedly, you traced nonsensical shapes on the chilled glass as a light snow began to dust the ground outside. 

"Made more than peace if I understand it correctly." What part of you not wanting to talk about it did he not understand? Well, it wasn't that he didn't understand but more that he didn't think it was best for you. Bottling up all of your pain lead to years of panic attacks and nightmares. If he could get you to open up on just one thing to try and alleviate just a modicum of pain then he was going to do it. 

Your attention snapped back to him as he recalled a conversation he had had with Bucky right before the battle. "That rat-bastard told you!" you exclaimed. Not that you hadn't shown obvious signs of being in a relationship with him after he was gone (what with the pictures on your phone and the amount of time you spent sobbing over his ashes - or lack thereof), but Steve really, actually knew. "It was supposed to be a secret." You couldn't believe that Bucky had gone back on that promise the two of you had made. AND he had kept it a secret from you. . . albeit it wasn't as if he had had to hide it from you for long. 

Steve cracked a smile. That was the most emphatic you had been about anything in weeks which he took as a good sign. Your eyes narrowed and you probed his mind deeper for the full conversation that they had had. One of the skills that most of the Avengers had developed after spending years with you was learning how to hide memories. It took a lot of willpower and conscious attention, but they were able to keep things from you. Of course, with enough digging you could find what you were looking for and they often slipped up. Natasha seemed to be the best as keeping things from you - at least, hiding all of the details though the gist of the thought was always lingering somewhere - but Steve wasn't too bad either. It didn't help that you were off your A-game lately too. 

"What all did he say?" you asked, the hostility still present in your voice but acting only as a veil to disguise your fear. What exactly were you afraid of? You weren't completely sure. Perhaps he had admitted that the two of you weren't going to work out which means that you had endured reliving all of those painful memories for nothing. Worse yet, maybe he had been explicit with the details of each and every rendezvous which would be super humiliating - Steve was like a brother to you which meant there were things he just didn't need to know about! 

Turns out that the real answer was much worse. "He told me that even though it seemed like he kept hurting you that you didn't run and that seemed to give him a sense of self-worth that he hadn't had in a long. He told me that he loved you and that keeping it from you was the hardest thing he had to do," Steve answered. Tears welled in your eyes and you chewed nervously on your fingernails to try and distract yourself from crying. 

Steve grabbed your wrist to stop you and offered an apologetic look. Maybe it wasn't his place to share that but he hoped that telling you would give you a small piece of warmth in these dark times. "That son-of-a-bitch," you managed to utter before bursting into tears and throwing yourself into Steve's strong arms. He wrapped himself around you and held your back tightly, trying to comfort you as much as he could. He felt a little guilty and responsible for making you cry but he knew that Bucky would've wanted you to know. 

"He just had to get one more blow in, didn't he?" you sighed and pulled back from his embrace. You stayed beside him on your bed and Steve placed a reassuring hand on your back. Childishly, you used your sleeve to wipe your runny nose as you sniffled. "How many times did I tell him not to do that?"

"There's nothing wrong with someone loving you, (Y/N)," Steve informed you. He moved to your nightstand and offered you a tissue that used to dab your tears away before blowing your nose. 

"I know that." 

"Was it because it was him, then?" Steve asked and sat back down beside you just so you knew that you weren't alone in this. He missed Bucky, too. Your history with Bucky was rocky at best so he could understand if you were uncomfortable with Bucky, of all people, having intimate feelings towards you. 

A shaky sigh carried the last of your crying out of your body. You had cried so frequently lately that you were just running out of tears so each sob session seemed to last less and less time. "No," you answered quietly and stared down at your hands. "It was too fast. Right?" You searched his face for confirmation that he agreed with you. 

He only shrugged. "That's not really for me to say," he said which was not the answer you were looking for. Your gaze fell back to your hands that rested on your lap. Luckily for you, you could read his thoughts and you caught them before he tucked them away in his mind. He didn't want to influence your decision so he had kept his lips sealed but he believed that once you knew you were in love. . . you knew. There was no such thing as too fast or too slow so long as it was real. 

"It scared me, Steve. . . for this reason," you murmured and swallowed the heavy cry rising in your throat. "I already felt so vulnerable around him and then he went and just died! He's gone. He's gone, Steve." Your willpower wasn't enough to keep yourself from crying again. Steve offered you another tissue that you used to dab your tears before they could drip from your nose. 

What was the point in falling in love when it was doomed? Some part deep inside of you had sensed tragedy. It felt inevitable. And here you were left with his ashes and a broken, lonely heart. "I thought he'd hurt me," you confessed further and buried your face in your hands in a failed attempt to muffle your crying. "It wasn't fair but I thought he would. And now he's just gone." Steve rubbed your back gently, sympathies filling his head and spilling into your own. 

You stood and paced around the room to shake off the tears. No more crying! No more! You have got to hold it together! Come on! You shook your hands as if the physical action would psychologically help you as well. "You loved him, too," Steve said quietly as he watched you take quick but long strides around the room. 

Your head whipped in his direction, "No," you snapped a little too quickly. Maybe he would've believed you had you not been so defensive. He chuckled, almost sadly, and met your eyes with that all-too-familiar knowing look. "Seriously. No way, Steve." 

Steve slowly rose from the bed and held his hands up defensively. He really didn't believe you but if that's what you needed to tell yourself then who was he to correct you? "I just think you're better off when you stop building walls, (Y/N)," he pointed out. He gave you one last reassuring squeeze on your shoulder before ducking out of your room. 

After plopping onto your bed and groaning into your pillow, you flipped around and stared listlessly up at your ceiling. You didn't love Bucky. That would've been a little hypocritical of you since you had adamantly commanded him not to love you. What was love anyway? Was it a canyon in your chest so vast and deep that a shout into its endless void would eternally echo as it made its way into your very core? Was it an itching sensation that covered every inch of your skin in a fire that only one person could put out by their mere touch? Was it a longing loneliness at the knowledge that you'd never hear their voice or touch their skin or feel their breath on your neck again? If that's what love was then maybe Steve was right. 

You were in love with Bucky. 

Why had it taken him being turned into ash for you to realize that? You were such an idiot! Your heart swelled with the realization that you were in love only to deflate twice as fast knowing that your love was over faster than it had begun. You pulled your legs to your chest and pulled the sheets over your body but there was a permanent chill that occupied the empty side of your bed. It was hard to fall asleep knowing he'd be waiting for you in your dreams. Waking had become a chore when you knew his arm wouldn't be around you when you woke up. 

God. . . you were a fool to not realize before that you were so in love.


	9. Could that really be what I think it is?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place during the battle at the end of Endgame and everything that happens after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out! I had a lot of issues with my laptop and then I lost all of my WIPs so I've had to restart. It was such a pain but I hope that you like this chapter and it makes up for that!

It felt like you were relapsing after losing Natasha. After three full years of therapy to help you properly grieve the one you lost and to finally learn how to better conquer (or at least maintain) your trauma, you felt like you were almost back to square one. You sat on the docks with the rest of the team, Cap's hand on your shoulder as you cried. It felt like everything was crumbling. 

Banner promised that he would do all that he could to bring her back. He struggled, that much was clear, but he wasn't able to do it. He managed to snap and your head filled with a painful throbbing. A flood of new voices filled your head and, although it was painful to readjust to a sudden influx of voices, it made you laugh with glee. It worked!

And then there was an explosion. Your body tumbled down amongst the rubble and landed near Rhodey who ejected himself from his suit to crawl over and help free Rocket was trapped under a large piece of debris. As the static in your head began to clear and shape into individual, tangible thoughts (compared to the tangled mess it was at first), you realized that it hadn't been the voices of everyone returned in your head. It was the voice of Thanos's army who hovered above. 

Water began flooding in and your heart raced. Rhodey tried calling for help but there was no response. Bruce was doing all he could to keep the roof from caving in and crushing you. The four of you were trapped and were going to drown! You reached out with your mind and that's when you found Scott. Apparently Rhodey's transmission had gone out, but nothing was coming in. Scott was already on his way!

You urged him to hurry and he made a little quip about how having another voice in his head made him feel like a puppet and you were Jiminy Cricket. 'Another time, Scott!' you scolded him. With death about to knock on the door as the water reached your chin, you found that you weren't really in the mood to joke around. "Take a deep breath!" Rhodey called out after sliding back into his suit in hopes that it would give him a little more air should it come to that. 

You felt the water lift you up and your head pressed against the rubble above you. You hadn't even had time to catch your breath when you felt Scott's presence. His voice too loud in your mind for him not to be close. It happened so quickly too. As a new rush of voices flooded your mind, a hand wrapped around your body. A whole hand wrapped around your whole body. . . Scott had grown larger than he had ever been before. He managed to fit you, Rhodey in his suit, Rocket (no surprise there since he was a raccoon), and a Hulk in the palm of his hand. He broke through the destroyed remains of the Avengers Compound and let everyone down. 

Your focus turned to the giant army invading the earth. No, that's not where your focus was. A giant grin pressed on your face as Rhodey flew you down to join the earth's army. The entire Wakandan army was here, moving through a portal. So were the Asgardian warriors, the sorcerers that Tony had spoken of before, it was everyone. Everyone. You caught glimpse of T'Challa and Sam. Of course you wanted to look for Bucky but your body was coursing with so much adrenaline and righteous rage that you didn't have the time to search for him or find his voice in the screaming chaos that was your mind currently. 

"Avengers," Steve said through gritted teeth. "Assemble." With a roar, everyone pushed forward and the real battle began. The final one. This was it. If you lost again, there wouldn't be another chance to make it right. You would win because you had to win. 

After spending three years in therapy, you found that you had a lot of time on your hands. You spent a lot of time in the lab learning about all of the new equipment, medicines, and practices used throughout the galaxy to heal ailments. It was a good distraction. But it wasn't enough. Therapy had helped you move on from survivor's guilt and any accountability you held against yourself (if only you had fought harder and stronger and better then maybe you could've helped stop the snap). You had made sure that the next time you were in battle, you were going to fight with all you had - better than swords and guns, you had your mind. 

The amount of practice you put into enhancing and basically weaponizing your ability was of notable length. But it paid off. As you charged against Thanos's army, you stretched out with your mind and filled their heads with a deafening screech which caused a wide radius of soldiers around you to fall to their knees, clutching their heads in pain. It left them wide open for attack and a rush of Wakandan soldiers took them out effortlessly. A smirk passed your lips. You finally felt useful.

'(Y/N),' you heard loud and clear in your mind which caused you to whip around. There he stood not ten feet away from you, a grin on his face. There was no time for a joyous reunion but you allowed yourself a short moment to run to his side and throw your arms around him. He gave your hip a quick squeeze and placed an even quicker peck on your temple before letting you go. There was a battle still to be won. 

You had already been giving it your all but now that you were truly reconnected with the man you had loved and lost and now found. . . you had more strength and more fire in you than you ever knew you were capable of wielding. You worked together with Bucky. You had his back and would make troops fall to their knees so he could easily take them out. 

Unfortuantely, you were so focused on covering his six that you didn't watch your own. Bucky had also grown comfortable because you seemed to keep all of baddies from getting close enough to inflict harm. That is until one of the Outriders tackled you, its gnarling teeth tearing at the skin on your shoulder. A scream ripped through your throat and you tried to move into its mind but you were having trouble focusing past the pain. A flurry of bullets whizzed just over you and tore the creature apart until it fell off of you.

Bucky held out his hand, which you took, and he pulled you to his feet. "No time," you told him. His thoughts were only on you and your well-being. He needed to focus on this battle if you were to win and to come out alive. Blood trailed down your arm and off your fingertips. The throbbing, stinging pain was hard to ignore but you did what you could so that you could continue to fall the seemingly never-ending line of troops that came barreling your way. 

It felt as if you had been fighting for hours. . . or maybe it was just the pain that was making you lose track of time. Thanos's army really only seemed to take a hit once Carol Danvers destroyed his ship. Damn, she was cool. Why couldn't you do something like that? Even then, though, his reinforcements on the ground just kept coming. You were ashamed to admit that all hope you had of win was dwindling by the minute. 

And then just like that, the troops began to vanish. Turned to ash just like half the galaxy had done just five years earlier. You felt weak in the knees and pushed your way over to Bucky, your hand gripping tightly onto his bicep. It seemed like only Thanos's army was disappearing but you had to make sure that he wasn't about to disappear on you again too. You had barely just gotten him back. 

"What's happening?" he asked. 

It dawned on you and you began to run to where everyone else was gathering. Someone had snapped. You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw Tony. The life quickly leaving his body, the effects of the stones charring his body and his suit. He had sacrificed himself to destroy Thanos. Bucky caught you by the arm as your knees threatened to cave in. Tears poured down your dirt-stained cheeks. He couldn't be gone. He just couldn't.

Everyone began to take a knee, beginning with Clint. Then T'Challa and Carol. Then those that you didn't even know. You lowered yourself as gently as you could and held back your cries to properly pay respect to the man who just saved the planet - no, who saved the galaxy. There was a respectful silence to homage to Iron Man. 

The cries caught in your throat, choking you. Bucky, who had also knelt beside you, pulled you into his arms and let you cry. The battle was won but at such a great cost. Who else were you going to have to lose? You curled your hands into the fabric of his shirt and mourned. 

_*_*_*_*_

Your reunion with Bucky was bittersweet, all things considered. It was good to have a shoulder to cry on as you continued to mourn for Tony and for Natasha. But you had grown stronger over the years and this wasn't going to be a weight you'd burden yourself with forever. Besides, their sacrifices had not been for nothing. The earth was saved and everyone's lives restored. 

Since the Avengers Compound had been thoroughly destroyed by Thanos, everyone split up and/or returned home. You, Bucky, Sam, and Steve stayed in a little hotel just a few miles away. Since you couldn't really go home, this was the closest it was going to get for the time being. 

You and Bucky shared a room while Sam and Steve stayed just across the hall. It was nice to finally have some alone time with Bucky after so very long. You crawled up beside him in bed and laid your head on his shoulder. He still didn't know what to do with his metal arm - especially since he didn't know about all of the work you had put in to not be afraid of him like that anymore. So to show him that it was completely alright, you tangled your fingers with his. It was a strange sensation to adjust to since his fingers were cold and hard, though it wasn't uncomfortable. 

All of the tension fled his body and he was able to completely relax now that he wasn't afraid of traumatizing you. "You have a lot to catch me up on," he said. He had been practically dead for five years while you continued living. There wasn't much for him to tell you but you surely had a lot you could tell him. So you nestled in and explained how you went through therapy to finally conquer your PTSD; that wasn't to say you didn't still get episodes but they were far less common and much less intense. You told him something he had figured out on his own - that you had learned to better control your powers. It was something he was really proud about and it made you blush. 

"I don't know. . . I guess I just spent all of that time just trying to figure out how to finally be the person I always wanted to be," you stated. You were stronger, less afraid, more powerful. You were finally becoming someone you, yourself, could be proud of. He was envious, you could tell. He still felt like he had so much room for self improvement. And now you had a five year headstart on him. 

You pressed your lips to his cheek. You'd help him become the person he wanted to be. He would've done the same for you had he been around. Actually, he had been your motivation. Once you found out he loved you and you loved him. It had driven you to be better. You moved onto his lap and gently rubbed his shoulders. 

"You learned a lot about yourself then, hm?" Bucky pecked at your lips, his hands resting on your waist. He was ready to have you and God knew you were ready to have him too. Five years of celibacy had been rough - though it hadn't been completely devoid of any romance; it was a secret you weren't quite ready to share with him yet, though. 

"I did. I learned a little something about you, too," you smirked and he raised his eyebrow. You shrugged, "Steve might've let a thing or two slip." A girlish giggle rolled over your tongue as you playfully bit your lower lip. 

A dozen embarrassing thoughts danced around his mind as he tried to figure out what exactly Steve had told you. In the process, he ended up oversharing because you could read each thought. You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. That's when he realized that you had been peeking. He growled playfully and rolled you over. He tickled your side which caused you to shriek. "Stop it! You can't be serious!" you laughed. Come on! Tickling?! 

He laughed and you grew red. After five years, you had forgotten just how very much you loved his laugh. His fingers slowed and he locked eyes with you. The look you shared said it all. His lips crashed into yours and he wasted no time in pulling you out of your clothes. Your hands crawled under his shirt and stripped him so you could enjoy his beautifully carved muscles properly. 

Bucky was excited to have his second arm. Now he could really show you his moves. No more laying beneath you - he was in charge now. His lips stayed pressed against yours as his hand dipped between your legs to warm you up. It didn't take much to get you excited since you had waited half a decade for some good action. Once his fingers came away slick, he grabbed his rock-hard cock and pressed inside you. He used one hand for balance on the bed while the other felt over each curve and dip of your figure. His feather touches so gentle it gave you goosebumps. 

He was far less gentle as he rammed inside your body. In full, deep thrusts he pumped fully inside you, pressing heavy moans out of your body. Your fingernails scratched at the sheets or clung to the rocking headboard. Thank goodness Steve and Sam were across the hall and not on the other side of the wall. He had an incredible rhythm going - fast and hard with perfectly timed breaks of slow and long. Your body was his instrument and he knew how to play a concerto, your sighs and moans were his magnum opus. 

Your back arched and your toes curled as the song he played crescendo-ed inside you until reaching the final notes. "Buck! Bucky! Oh fuck!" you screamed out and your sex-flushed body shivered and shook with excitement. There was no better sound than his name on your lips. With one final thrust, he finished inside you, your own name a sultry whisper on his lips. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. Oh how you had missed these lips. He pressed his forehead to yours and, now that you knew to look for it, you could find the whispers of his true thoughts. 'I love you. I love you so much,' his secrets thoughts echoed so faintly in the depths of his mind that you almost couldn't make them out. 

You pressed your forehead to his and closed your eyes. 'Don't you want to know what secret Steve shared with me?' you asked him, though it was rhetorical because you continued before he could answer. 'Turns out you were better at hiding things from me than I gave you credit for.' You peeked your eyes open and read the fear in his own. 

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)," he said and pulled away gently. "I know you asked me not to but how could I not? I mean look at you. Especially now!" He ran a hand through his hair. It really had grown shaggy; you'd have to cut it for him. "I'm gonna kill him," he clenched his jaw. Even if he had been dead, who was Steve to go around spilling secrets like that?! 

You sat up and pulled his lips back to yours again. "Say it, Buck," you whispered. "I already know it. Just say it to me, though." You both knew that he loved you but he had never spoken it. Nor had he even really let himself dwell on those thoughts just in case you'd find out. 

He hesitated. What if this was some sort of trap? He shook off his instincts. If this was a setup, you'd have either already left or you wouldn't be pecking at his lips now. "I love you, (Y/N). For a long time now," he confessed to you. He really put himself out there. 

The last thing he expected was for you to return the sentiment. Imagine his shock when you uttered right back, "I love you, too." He was left in a stunned, albeit happy, silence. You just laughed and resumed kissing him once more. He wasn't sure when that had happened and if you told him that deep-down you had been in love with him for a very long time, he just wouldn't have believed you. So he was content thinking that you had just fallen in love sometime over the past five years. 

_*_*_*_*_

"I wanted to tell you first, so that you didn't find out some other way," Steve said to you. He had taken you down to the empty lobby to talk to you privately while Sam and Bucky remained in the rooms. Your stomach knotted nervously. That tone only meant he was about to deliver some bad news. You didn't want to hear bad news ever again. 

He was telling you in person because he didn't trust Bucky to hide this knowledge away. Even though it seemed he was better at keeping secrets than you realized, Bucky still wasn't as good at keeping things from you as Steve was. He had such a strong will and a strong mind. 

Steve took your hands between his which was good because it stopped your trembling. "When I take the stone back today-" he began and tears welled in your eyes- "I'm going to go back and try some of that good life Tony was talking about." You tried to keep the first tear from falling because you knew it would just be a waterfall after that. Your efforts failed and you pulled a hand away to wipe your face as dry as you could manage. 

"I'm sorry. I'm being so selfish," you muttered and he offered a sad smile. "You're not coming back. . . what am I supposed to do without you?" It was already hard enough without Nat or Tony. But Steve was like a big brother and had been your rock for so long. He couldn't just leave you alone now!

He squeezed your hand. "(Y/N), you're not going to be alone," he reminded you. "You'll have Sam and you'll have Buck. You know he'll do anything to protect you." You only nodded because if you spoke right now then you'd break into another round of tears. Without even realizing, your mind was reaching out to Bucky now; you needed comfort because you were distraught and sad and drowning. 

"I want you to be happy, Steve. I do," you assured him with a shaky voice. It was just a hard pill to be swallowing. You saw what he was envisioning: a picture-perfect life with Peggy Carter. Didn't he deserve a happy ending after everything? "I'm just really going to miss you." Steve smiled sadly. 

Bucky came running down and into the room. His face pinkened with jealousy when he saw your hand in Steve's; he reminded himself that it really must be nothing but he didn't know if anything had happened during those five years he was gone. . . maybe you and Steve had had a fling! "What happened?" he asked, his brow furrowed and lips pursed. 

Steve looked at you and then at Bucky. "I'm sorry," you whispered. "I must've reached out to him without realizing." It was something you had done as a child when you were scared; your mother had always come to your aid after a nightmare or during a thunderstorm. Bucky was the one you called to now. . . Maybe Steve was right and Bucky was your rock now. 

Bucky knelt beside you and placed a reassuring hand on your back. You wiped your face dry once more before placing a kiss on Bucky's cheek. "I think you two need to talk," you said gently. You held Steve's head and placed a long kiss goodbye on his forehead before moving outside to your car. 

You waited for Bucky and Steve to finish talking which took forever. You didn't mind. A long goodbye isn't what you needed but it was something that Bucky did. He slipped into the passenger seat with a clouded look on his face. You reached across and squeezed his hand before speeding out of the parking lot and towards the lake that the compound used to sit beside; it's where Banner had rebuilt the time-machine-platform. 

Steve and Sam arrived shortly after. Sam was in his usual chipper, snarky mood which gave you the impression that Steve hadn't spoken to him about his plan at all. It wasn't your place to tell him either so you just wrapped your arms around Bucky's waist and rested your head against his shoulder. 

Captain America sauntered over with a knowing look in his eyes. "Don't do anything stupid 'til I get back," he smiled at Bucky. The two shared a melancholy chuckle.

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you," Bucky replied back before the two shared a parting hug. "I'm gonna miss you buddy." 

"It's going to be okay, Buck." Your grip around him tightened as Steve turned his attention to you. "Take care of him for me, will ya?" he asked which caused you to smile and nod. 

'Good luck, Steve. I hope you find everything you're looking for,' you shared your thought in his head. He smiled back at you. He moved onto the platform and grabbed the case with the stones with one hand and mjolnir with the other. 'I love you, Steve.'

'Love you, too, kid.' He gave everyone one last look before he was gone. You had to look away. Your face buried into Bucky's chest - an action that confused Sam since Cap was going to be back any second! Your fingernails dug into the fabric of Bucky's coat and he gently rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head. 

Banner began the countdown to bring Steve back and you cursed yourself for looking knowing full well that he wasn't going to return. But you looked anyway. You bit the inside of your cheeks so hard that they bled but you were trying to keep from crying. It was a bittersweet thing and you were trying so hard to focus only on the sweet. Steve got his happy ending. 

You know he did. His voice tingled in the back of your mind. Your focus moved towards the lake and landed on a bench where an old man sat. Bucky followed your gaze. "Sam," you caught his attention with a croak. The three of you moved in just a tad closer. 

"Go ahead," Bucky encouraged Sam forward. The two of you had already had your goodbyes. You squeezed Sam's hand and perused through Steve's thoughts. Now that he was much older and out of practice, sorting through his thoughts was as easy as sorting through a neatly filed catalog. Your eyes brimmed with tears - happy tears. 

Sam pushed forward and left you alone with Bucky. "He got what he wanted," you whispered to him. He pulled your shaky hand to his lips. The two of you smiled at each other. 

"What about you, (Y/N)? What is it you want?" he asked you quietly. You looked over at Steve and smiled at the memories he relived of his wedding and births of his children. That's what you wanted even though it seemed so far out of reach now. 

You looked up at him and kissed him gently. "I've got what I want," you said honestly. Something more would be nice, but he was your rock and your happiness and your love. He was your Peggy. And now that he was back with you, you'd never let him go again.


	10. I love you but a sacrifice needs to be made. . .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After he inadvertently hurts you, Bucky questions if your relationship is a good idea.

You had moved back into your family home - the mansion that you hadn't lived in since Bucky had kidnapped you. There had been too many bad memories for you to stay before but now that you had a hold on your trauma, it seemed like the perfect time to go home. Besides, it was only an hour away from what used to be the compound which meant it wasn't in completely unknown territory. It didn't hurt that it was a luxurious mansion, too. 

It had been difficult to decide if you were going to move back into your old bedroom, the paint somehow still fresh on the walls even though a thin layer of dust covered everything, or your parents' room since that was the master bedroom and you were now the master of the house. Your parents had been gone for so long now. . . It no longer felt wrong to move into their old room. It felt weird at first, but not wrong. 

Bucky had helped you move the furniture and change the bedding and dust. It felt more like a space of your own now which was all you could ask for. You moved under the soft, silky sheets and nuzzled against your handsome boyfriend. "A little taste of domestic bliss," you hummed happily. "I forgot how nice it was." Your life had been forever changed when you joined the Avengers and you had forgotten what it felt like to just be a person. 

He chuckled and rubbed your arm. "Can't remember the last time I've had something like this," he sighed. The time the two of you shared in Wakanda was nice but there was always war on the horizon. And even before he was the Winter Soldier he served in World War II. To be in a quiet home with the girl he loved was more than he could ever ask for. 

"I could get used to it," you said and began to rub circles on his chest. Just being this close to him made you feel all warm, tingly, happy. He rolled on top of you, your body tucked safely under his, and kissed you deeply. A content smile rested on his lips as his gentle gaze traced every feature in your face. 

"I could, too," he said. The two of you both knew that there was still work to do. If you could prevent bad things from happening and didn't then what kind of people would you be? The next thing you knew your shirt was on the floor and his hands were pawing at your bare chest. His mouth moved to your neck where he left sloppy kisses as his fingers snatched your panties off in one quick motion. Since the two of you were just in your pajamas, there was a lot less stripping to do. He was naked except for his now-tented boxers. 

You laughed and shoved him playfully. "You know Sam teases when you leave hickeys," you reminded him so he would be careful not to leave a mark. He left one anyone. "Asshole." But a smile rested on your lips. His hands and lips moved down your body, leaving feather kisses on your breasts and then your stomach. 

His arms curled around your legs as he threw them over his shoulders and buried his face between your legs. His tongue worked a magic you didn't know it could. Your eyes rolled back into your head as a long moan echoed through your body. Your fingers ran through his shaggy hair as your chest rose and fell nearly as quick as your racing heartbeat. He really knew how to get you warmed up. His tongue flicked across your most sensitive bits. 

As your body began to tremble and near an orgasm, he sat up on his knees, keeping your legs rested on his shoulder. His fingers dug into the flesh of your waist before he pushed his boxers down and slipped his cock deep inside your center. His name passed your tongue, mixed in with a slur of euphoric curses. With each pump you inched closer to the edge until your skin grew rosier and hotter, your muscles tensed before spasming, your voice reached its highest octave. 

Your voice was a symphony to his ears and brought him to his own climax even faster. As your body trembled and shook as you panted heavily, his pressed deep inside you as his final moan filled the room. He finished inside you before pulling away gently and laying beside you. Where his left hand had been holding you, there was a bright red handprint - it was absolutely going to bruise. He sighed and traced it. 

"Hey," you snapped and propped yourself up on your elbow to look down at him as he laid there beside you, "I don't mind. I think it's kind of sexy. I told you I'm not afraid anymore." You took his metal hand and held it to your cheek before kissing his palm. Besides, it wasn't like his regular hand hadn't left bruises before either. After placing a kiss on his cheek, you settled in against him and closed your eyes. 

Sleep came easily now. Bucky was your safe place and your home so if you were with him then you had nothing to be afraid of. That is until you woke up in the middle of the night with his hand around your neck. The cold metal stealing the warmth of your skin as he gripped tighter and tighter. You tried to choke out words but your throat was closed. 

Tears blurred your vision and your skin began to change into unnatural shades. Your scratched and clawed at his exposed skin and thrashed under his weight but he hardly budged. There was a recognizably empty glaze in his eyes that you remembered from before. Bucky wasn't home right now. Hadn't you removed all of the Hydra coding in his mind!? Duh - you could actually check! It was difficult to focus as the lack of air was making your body both shrink and swell. But you dipped into his thoughts and realized that he was just having a very vivid nightmare. He didn't even know what he was doing right now! In his mind, he was killing Helmut Zemo who had caused him (and everyone you knew really) a lot of pain a few years ago. You had no idea he still held so much malice for the man. 

'Bucky-' you attempted to scream in his mind but it entered his head as a wispy sigh as everything began to grow black. Just as you began to slip into unconsciousness, you felt his finger move from your throat. The influx of air burned your throat and your lungs as your body filled with oxygen once more. You rolled off the bed onto your hands and knees, coughing and gasping. 

Your forehead pressed to the ground and you began to sob. You hadn't been that terrified in a very long time. It was a miracle you had managed to think coherently enough to free yourself. It wasn't until you felt a hand on your back that you realized you had been trembling.   
"(Y/N)," he exhaled, his voice shaky but he was trying to keep it together. 

You somehow managed to sit up, leaning your back against the bed, and you met his eyes. They were brimmed with tears and his metal hand rested in a tight fist at his side. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay? (Y/N). . . I'm sorry," he rattled quickly before getting up and leaving the room. His thoughts flooding your mind even as he raced down the hall and down the stairs and out the front door and into the gardens where the cool air enveloped his body. 'What have I done? How could I have done this to her? She's got to hate me. I've ruined everything. Damnit, Buck. You've ruined everything.'

After pulling your knees to your chest and wiping your face dry, another wave of tears came. You were afraid and hurt and wanted nothing more than to be held. Mostly you were ashamed and embarrassed because you weren't sure if you trusted Bucky anymore which wasn't fair. It was an accident induced by years of trauma. And yet that had been your biggest nightmare which you had been forced to actually live through. 

It could've been minutes or hours but eventually you ran out of tears. The sun still hadn't risen which was the only indication that you hadn't cried for days. With the energy that you could muster, you pulled yourself into bed and pulled the sheets up over yourself as you curled into a tight ball. The bed felt empty and cold but were you really ready to share the bed again? 

The answer surprised you. Yes. Bucky was all you really had now and you needed him. His self-deprecating thoughts still entered your mind though they had grown more quiet as he moved around outside. 'Please come back,' you whispered in his mind. After ten minutes, his figure stood in the doorway. 

"I want you to hold me," you whimpered. He couldn't say no to you even though he wanted to. What if he hurt you again? He'd just have to stay awake to ensure his dreams didn't take hold again. He crawled up behind you and wrapped his right around you tightly. You spun around and buried your face in his chest. After spending time outside, his natural smell had a faint addition of pine and lavender which was really very nice. 

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)," he whispered again and pressed his lips to the top of your head. 

You wrapped your arms around him and dug your fingers into his back. "Don't Buck. It's. . . it's going to be fine. I'll be alright. It's not your fault," you assured him while assuring yourself at the same time. He scoffed. He absolutely disagreed. It was not just fine! "James Buchanan Barnes, you're not going to make this harder by feeling sorry for yourself, do you hear me." 

He stiffened when you raised your voice at him - something you almost never did. He looked down and met your eyes before nodding slowly. "If you choke me again, I'll kill you. But it won't happen again because I'll start helping you have better dreams." You would make it your duty to fill his head with happy thoughts more often and definitely before bed in an attempt to keep him from having nightmares. "I'm not losing everything we've built over this." 

His fingers gently traced the outline of his hand around your neck. "What if I do it again, though? What if you can't stop it?" he asked nervously. 

"I removed the Hydra coding in your head, didn't I?" 

He wasn't completely sure that you had since he had hurt you. Only, he knew he hadn't meant to hurt you - it was like he had been sleepwalking except instead of walking it was choking. You raised your eyebrow at him and pursed your lips. He nodded. "You did."

"Then I'll take care of this, too," you stated simply. Your body still trembled which caused him to fill with regret. You were ashamed that you hadn't handled that as well as you wanted. But you were handling it now by making it your problem. You were taught that you can only control your own problems and issues. It wasn't exactly what your therapist had meant but if you took his problems and made them your own then you were really only focusing on your own issues, right? 

You nuzzled in again and listened to his heartbeat, still racing from the fear he had damaged you and ruined everything. "I love you, (Y/N). I never want anything bad to happen to you," he told you softly. 

"I love you, too, Bucky," you replied. 'Don't' you whispered in his mind right after as you sensed him thinking about leaving you to protect you. He couldn't hurt you if he was far away. But that was the last thing either of you wanted. If you asked him to say, then he couldn't say no to you.


End file.
